


The Words I Sing

by irishvelvet



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Blow Jobs, Bottom!Harry, Dom/sub Undertones, Famous!Louis, Fluff, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, I just add as I go, I needed a lot of names, Kissing, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Pining, Rain Sex, Reality TV, Rimming, Shower Sex, Smut, Titanic - Freeform, a lot of meta, architect!harry, but not like T Swift, chicken stuffed with mozzarella wrapped in parma ham with a side of homemade mash, rim jobs, since I don't know what to tag, singer!louis, the tags aren't necessarily in the proper order, too much lyrics, using lyrics to convey a message, well it was mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-07
Updated: 2016-10-07
Packaged: 2018-08-08 16:12:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 48,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7764460
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishvelvet/pseuds/irishvelvet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is enjoying his Hiatus when his management decides that it'd be best for him to be one of the coaches in the upcoming reality show, Next Big Star. He is tasked to find a prodigy he could train, but then he finds Harry. And Harry, he's just everything and so much more.</p><p>or</p><p>The fic where Louis is the coach, but Harry is the one who opens up his world. Featuring Harry and his extensive knowledge of song lyrics which he uses to flirt with Louis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Couldn't Help But Notice Your Smile

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Awriterwrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awriterwrites/gifts).



> Thanks to awriterwrites for the prompt. I hope you like it.
> 
>  

Chapter title from the song [ Stop and Talk A While ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tpOKaXn3hjA)

Tension flows through the room as three pairs of eyes stare at Louis. He is in the conference room of Modest Management. A wooden table stretches across the room and the walls are all glass, filling the room with London’s late afternoon gloom. The overhead pin lights are radiating heat, and Louis feels more pressure because of it. He’s anxious and his palms are sweaty where they are clasped together in front of him. He’s feeling a little hot all over. He usually loves it when the attention is on him, but that’s when he’s showing off his talent to thousands of adoring fans who aren’t glaring at him like the three men in front of him are.

Fuck. Do they expect him to give an answer now? When he was called by his management for a meeting, he did not think they’d want him to participate in a reality show. He is on break for crying out loud.

“Let me think about it,” he says to appease the men wearing suits.

The man with the red tie and a halo of gray hair stands up. “I don’t think you understand, Louis.” He begins to pace, “We need to keep your name in the papers so that you stay relevant.”

Louis blinks. Does he even want to stay relevant? The money he earned from touring to promote his music is enough to last him a lifetime. He’s going to be able to live comfortably. Also, he could do away with the endless stream of paparazzi that seem to follow him every time he goes anywhere public. He’s not going to miss that. 

“Why do I have to stay relevant?” he asks, “I don’t have an album to be released or anything, not even a single.”

“David is right, you know,” the man opposite from him says. A young man in his early thirties, with hair styled like an elf. Michael. “You need to stay relevant so the merchandise you already have out would sell.”

“That would really only benefit you guys, not me. I don’t need the money,” Louis comments. His management only milks him for profit. He was not producing the kind of music he wants to, or the songs he wrote, like he did in the earlier stage of his career. He was told to sing what would sell. He envies those with the freedom to actually perform what they want, when they want. Today, music was no longer his passion - it’s become a job he grown tired of.

Another thick cloud of silence settles in the room, with only Michael’s phone making a sound each time he taps it. Louis rolls his eyes and looks at the man to his left - the only man in the whole management team he trusts. Liam is looking back, with his chocolate-colored irises radiating warmth. A thin smile on his lips showing friendliness. “What do you think, Liam?” Liam is his best friend. Louis met him when they were only eight years old, and haven’t parted since. If anyone in the room has his best interest in mind, it is Liam.

He hesitates a bit as he softly says, “Honestly, I think it’d be great for you, mate,” Liam says with a wink and a genuine smile. Louis knows he has his reasons for saying so, and it’s also a signal that he could stall this conversation for a few days while they talk privately about the issue.

Louis takes a deep steadying breath, “Can I just get back to you guys in two weeks?” he asks.

“Make it thirteen days,” Michael says. “We can give you that, the meeting with the team for the reality show would be in two weeks, and we’d need time to prepare.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Louis stands up to shake their hands and heads out of the office with Liam.

They walk to the lifts and wait for one to go to their level. “What do you really think?” he asks his best friend who suddenly finds the buttons very interesting.

Liam smiles shyly at him, “I really think it’d be good for you, Lou, but not for the reasons they keep spouting. Money. God. They’ve worked with you for almost six years now and they still haven’t got a clue about you.” He sighs exasperatedly, “They won’t even listen to me; they didn’t go with the pitch I proposed.”

“Do you mean to say you knew what the meeting was going to be about and you did not even warn me?” he thumps the other man’s head just as the lift dings. They both walk in, and when the doors close, Louis says, “Okay, give me an elevator pitch then,” he laughs at his own joke, “since you claim to have prepared one,” he adds.

“Joining the show as a coach would not only earn you unneeded money,” Liam starts, looking at him intently, “It would give you an opportunity to teach another person about music,” Liam pauses, “Your kind of music,” he emphasizes. “Show him the ropes of the industry, and prevent bastards like this management from doing to other talents what they did to you.”

Louis purses his lips, eyebrows meeting and arms crossing. He knows that the whole music thing changed him, but he isn’t aware that this was how Liam sees him now. But he lets his best friend continue speaking.

“The best part is the prizes. Your scouted talent would get a recording contract, and as for the coach, their chosen charity would receive three hundred thousand pounds,” Liam quirks his lips, quite sure that he’s already got Louis reeled in, he still continues, “add that to the fact that you do need to re-establish your name again, get it out there. Your contract with Modest and the label would expire right after the show ends, and we both know you would not renew, so getting your name out there would give you a better chance of signing with better record companies – the nicer ones.”

Liam makes a lot of sense. Louis hates when that happens because then he could not stick to his original thoughts and defend his original opinion.

The lift opens revealing the cream-colored walls of the building’s interior. The lobby looks cool and inviting, the opposite of the higher-ups who own it. Louis groans at the thought. “Okay,” he says as they step off.

“You’ll do it?” Liam asks, holding him in place and searching his face to see if he was serious.

“Yes,” Louis answers. He is not sure if it’s the right decision, but hey, he isn’t doing anything at the moment. Liam thinks it’s a good idea, and he already has a charity in mind.

Liam smiles at him, “That’s great!” He pulls him towards the back where he parked his car, “We should celebrate, and come up with ideas.” He takes his phone from his pocket, still keeping his other hand around Louis’ wrists as if he’s afraid he’ll change his mind. “I’ll call Zayn to help out.”

Louis rolls his eyes, as if Liam needed an excuse to call his boyfriend. He appreciates the enthusiasm though, because he does not know where to start.

He is supposed to find the contestant he would be coaching himself; there would be no auditions. The coaches are to scour the streets of London in search of a worthy prodigy. He does not have any idea where to go, because even during his heyday, he did not really go out. Despite what the cheap tabloids say, he didn’t regularly go to bars to drink and enjoy himself. He’d rather stay home and write music with Haley purring in his lap.

 

…oOo…

 

In just about a week after the meeting with the executives, Louis feels like he’s been to every dingy pub in London, has gone to every open-mic night trying to be incognito just to find a talent. He’s exaggerating of course, it’s only been a week, it’s impossible to have covered every pub in London. Still, he must have seen a hundred acts, and there were good ones, but none special enough to pique his interest.

He trusted Zayn’s suggestion of going to these bars, he was a talent scout after all, he does this for a living, he knew where to start. Louis is losing all hope of finding a talent himself.

It also feels like he’s kinda cheating, since the show hasn’t even started, but here he is looking for a talent. If it’s really this hard, then he’s glad he’s already come looking.

Tonight they go to another pub. It’s different from the others they’ve been to since it’s hidden away in a street which is a good twenty-minute drive from Central London. It works out well for Louis since it was near his house.

Louis walks over to the bar to fetch the next round of drinks. The place was filled with twenty-somethings grabbing happy hour drinks, not really part of his demographic so they don’t immediately recognize him. The handful who did were polite enough to leave him alone, so he was grateful for that.

He settles in a stool facing the counter. The bartender comes up to him as he wipes a glass clean, eyebrows cocked as if to ask what his order is.

“Three pints, mate,” Louis says, smiling.

The bartender sets down his glass and lines three mugs in front of Louis, filling each with beer from a tap on the further end of the counter until the froth reached the brim. He thanks the bartender as he tries to make it all fit in both of his hands to take back to their table where Liam and Zayn are waiting for him. He hooks his thumbs in the handle of two mugs and laces his index fingers in the same and he pulls the remaining mug, gripping it with his remaining fingers.

He lifts the mug from from the counter and it shakes, not from the weight of the drinks but from the size of the containers. He takes a deep breath and lifts again.

“You need some help?” a low, raspy, kinda sexy drawl says from beside him. He doesn’t look, trying to concentrate on the task at hand.

“Nah,” he shakes his head. “I can manage, but thanks.”

“I bet you can’t make it to your table without any of it spilling. If a drop spills, you buy me a drink.”

Louis turns to the man, ready to accept the challenge. He’s greeted with lush chocolate brown curls, strawberry lips curved up in a smirk, in contrast with the pale skin of the man. He’s beautiful. But Louis knows he’s fit as well, so he does not let this faze him, “If I win, you buy me a drink.”

A flash of confusion crosses the man’s green eyes before he motions for Louis to go.

Louis walks a tad slowly back to his table with Liam and Zayn. The pub isn’t crowded which made the walk over their table easily navigable, no turns needed to avoid collision with anyone. He moves to set the mugs down and sighs in relief just as the third mug tips over and spills beer all over their table. “Fuck,” he says.

Liam grabs the napkin and lays it over the table to soak up the spilt beer. “You could’ve asked for a tray, mate,” he says, Zayn grinning at his side.

“I’ll go get another one,” Louis takes the empty mug for a refill and walks back to the bar.

The man is waiting for him with his arms crossed, leaning in the counter, his left ankle hooked with the other. The smirk is still painted on his face, and he looks cocky, and Louis might be attracted to him, but that’s out of the window since in the ten seconds they’ve interacted he’s managed to look arrogant for refusing the help and a klutz for spilling the drink. “I see you owe me a drink,” he says.

He places the mug on the counter calling for the bartender to fill it. “I don’t buy strangers drinks,” he says without thinking, he fully intends to buy this handsome stranger a drink, but he also wants to know his name.

“That’s okay,” he says, lips forming a straight line in resignation, smugness wiped away.

Louis smiles to himself, “This is the part where you tell me your name.” He reaches out to tap the other boy’s chin. And what was that? The moment the pad of his finger touches his chin, he felt something sting. But the more important question is: Has Louis lost his sense of personal space? Why is he going around tapping pretty faces when he is supposed to be looking for talents?

It doesn’t matter though because the man in front of him smiles, wide enough for his teeth to show, and Louis’ glad he did it. “I’m Harry,” he extends his arm.

“Louis Tomlinson,” he shakes Harry’s hand, which was warm, and soft, and smooth, and big, and those details aren’t important, but nobody but Louis has to know that he noticed. “What drink would you like?” he asks after pulling away.

“Yo, Styles!” a man calls out and Harry whips his head to face wherever the voice came from. The man walks up to Harry. “Your set would start in ten minutes, better get ready,” he grins at him as he twirls his pen before ticking off something in his clipboard, “You’d do great.”

“Thanks, Niall,” he says, and the man makes his way to the other customers, “Is it alright if you buy my drink after my set?”

Blood rushes to Louis’ ears, hot honey spreads from his chest to the tips of his fingers and toes. He’s excited, he doesn’t even know why. “You’re performing?” he asks.

“Yes,” Harry looks down at his boots, suddenly shy.

Louis finds it cute. Why is he feeling like a teenager? He’s a grown man for goodness sake. He’s been on tour; he’s seen things, he’s done things, but this boy in front of him is making him feel all tingly inside and the only thing he knows about him is his name, and that he’d be singing later. “Are you nervous?” he asks to keep himself from giggling with all the giddiness he’s feeling.

Harry looks at him. “Very,” he answers.

Louis puts a hand on his shoulder, “Having nerves is good, gives you the adrenaline to perform.”

“Of course you’d say that,” his eyes show that he is nervous about this, all traces of the cocky Harry from mere minutes ago gone, “you’re Louis Tomlinson.”

Louis pulls away, “So you recognized me.” It doesn’t come out as a question.

“No,” Harry shakes his head, curls bouncing with the movement. “not right away, anyway, only when you turned. Just thought I’d chat up the guy with the dainty wrists.”

“For your information, I have strong, manly wrists, nothing dainty about them,” Louis says as the lights begin to grow dimmer, and a spotlight pours over the stage.

“I have to go, it’s just going to be five songs,” he says. “Then you can buy me my drink.”

Louis smiles at him. “Good luck!” He grabs his forgotten pint and finds his seat in their table as Harry makes his way to the stage, with a guitar in hand.

They were three tables away from the stage so he has the perfect view of the singer. Harry stretches a little making his shirt ride up and letting Louis see the laurels adorning his hipbone. It’s obscene, bordering on scandalous, how they are in stark contrast to his creamy skin. The warm light complements his form, casting shadows that emphasize his muscles even through the see-through material of his top.

His hair cascades over his shoulder as the light bounces of the curls forming a halo. He looks confident, contrary to what he said earlier. He looks like an angel ready to sing.

Louis feels a stirring inside, like something is grazing light fingers down his navel. He does not realize that he was staring until Liam calls him out, “Mate, he hasn’t even sung yet.”

He snaps back to himself and focuses on Liam, “He’s gonna be good.” He takes a sip of his beer, the cold liquid keeping him cool.

Harry sits on the stool and adjusts the stand to keep the microphone at level with his lips. He settles the guitar on his lap, his left elbow resting on top of its body ready to strum, while his right fingers the proper fret. He scans the crowd, and when their eyes meet, he smiles and gives Louis a wink.  _ Nervous my arse _ , Louis thinks.

Instead of an introduction, he starts strumming the guitar. The conversations all around falls into a hush to listen. The chords were familiar to Louis; it was one of his songs. “My hands, your hands...” it was Strong, his latest single.

Louis hates to admit it, but he likes this version better. Harry has a much lower voice, making the song more sensual, or is it just Louis? “It’s your song,” Zayn says from across the table.

“Shh,” Louis says. He’s got a great voice, it’s raspy, and there’s a hint of something a little bit like danger in it. He sounds sexy without even trying, Louis wonders what it’ll be like if he tried. His voice is as thick as honey, and probably just as sweet.

“He’s the one!” Louis declares after the bridge. His transition from the bridge to the coda was beautifully done; Louis had a hard time singing that part live, but Harry nailed it. The song is special to him, and it’s wonderful that Harry seems to understand the meaning of it so that when he sings he exudes the emotions Louis felt while writing it.

Liam looks at him with his eyebrows furrowed, but with his lips turned up into a smile, and if Louis weren’t busy listening to Harry, he would’ve laughed, “Are you serious? You’ve only listened to one song.”

“Are you trying to tell me he isn’t good?” Louis asks, raising his eyebrows quizzically.

“I’m with Lou, babe,” Zayn says as he takes Liam’s hand in his and starts drawing patterns on the back of it. “He’s got the voice, the stage presence, and the looks. What more could you ask for, really?” he says.

“You’re the one who’s good at finding talent,” Liam shrugs. “I’ve known Louis all my life and I never knew he had talent.”

Zayn laughs as Louis balls a piece of napkin and throws it at him, “That’s your flaw, Leeyum, not mine,” he retorts.

He shushes them once more and listens to the next three songs without blinking. The second song he played was Send My Love by Adele, then Something In The Way You Move by Ellie Goulding, the fourth was Don’t by Ed Sheeran. His versions were only accompanied by a guitar but it gave a new twist to the sound; his energy was as lively as the songs themselves.

Harry pauses before proceeding to the last song of the set. “Hello, you guys are lovely tonight,” he tells the audience. “The last song I’m singing is for a special person, someone close to my heart.”  _ Oh no, he has a boyfriend? _ “To all our hearts, actually,” he corrects himself. “It’s the third anniversary of Niall’s twenty-secondth birthday!” he declares.

The whole pub erupts into a chorus of Happy Birthday and Harry drops of the stage to head to the bar. The blonde guy from earlier beams up at him. Just when the song was about to end, the bartender sidles up beside the birthday boy with a cake and sparklers. Niall blows on the sparklers after the last note. “First round’s on me!” he shouts as he gives Harry a hug and pulls on his curls. He says something else to Harry, which made the tall boy smile.

He walks back up to the stage and perches himself on the stool like before. He plucks the strings and sings, “It feels like the perfect night…”

Louis can’t help the amused smile that’s creeping on his face.

 

…oOo…

 

Harry takes a sip of his pink cocktail and smiles up at Louis. They’ve already done introductions and it is time for Louis to tell him about the show. He doesn’t really know how to considering the fact that they’ve flirted a bit earlier. But now’s as good a time as any.

“So,” he starts, “You were really good, couldn’t even tell you were nervous.”

“Thanks,” Harry says, “I dunno, like, I think I lose the nerves when I step on stage. I thought I’d be nervous or something, because you were here, but I wasn’t.”

Louis looks at him with confusion.

“’Cause you’re a proper idol, aren’t you?” Harry says as if reading Louis’ mind.

Louis laughs, “I’m not an idol, no one should idolize me.”

“Well, that’s what you think,” Harry scoops up the shaved ice in his frozen margarita and puts it in his mouth. And that move should be illegal. Louis can’t help but stare at his lips which are only two shades darker than the drink itself, and they look soft and inviting. They’re glistening, and he wants to kiss them, and maybe do something more. He shifts in his seat, veering his thoughts away from those stuff, keeping it cool.

Liam might have sensed he’s uncomfortable because he jumps in, “We have a proposition for you,” he tells Harry with a smile. “How would you like to win a recording contract?”

“Like a record deal? My own album out?” Harry asks as he places the drink on the table to concentrate on what Liam was saying.

“Yes,” Liam nods.

Zayn arrives with a plate of fries, which he puts down on the center of the table for everyone to share.

“That’d be awesome! So is it like a contest? Since you said ‘win’,” Harry plays with the shaved ice to make the drink watery.

Liam goes on to explain the mechanics of the reality show to Harry who nods in understanding. His eyes are wide in excitement, ready to take on the challenge.

“Yes!” he exclaims as soon as Liam finishes, “Wait, does this mean I can’t ask you out on a date?” He looks at Louis, and honestly, that’s what he’s thinking about right now? But also, his stomach does a summersault, so he’s actually happy about that comment.

“There’s nothing in the rule book or the contract that prohibits the coach from dating the contestant. Only that relatives up to the fourth degree could not be the contestant,” Liam shrugs.

Harry smiles at that and repeats himself, “Yes!”

Louis places his hand over Harry’s to get his attention. There he goes again with the personal space, it’d be weird if he removed his hand now though, so he just goes with it. “Harry, I think you should give it some more thought. Being in this industry, it’s crazy,” he starts. “Liam only explained what happens in the contest proper, but believe me, stories would be written about you, you will lose your privacy, and you might even do things you’re not comfortable with just because you think it would help you make it.” He’s drawing from his own experience, the many pap walks he had to do to make people think he’s straight so they’d buy his album, the many untrue rumours that keep making the headlines of trashy tabloids just to keep his name relevant. “Are you sure?”

“But you’re gonna be my coach, right?” he asks and Louis nods in response. “You’ll protect me,” he says so surely.

Louis feels warmth spread from his chest because of the look of earnest trust Harry is giving him. They’ve only known each other for a couple of hours, but this boy already trusted him with his life, “I will. But think about it first.”

“Hey, babe, I have an early day tomorrow. Do you mind if I go ahead?” Zayn asks Liam, giving Louis an apologetic look as well.

“No, I’ll go with you,” Liam says and puts a hand on Louis’ shoulder. “You know the rules, you could explain everything to Harry,” Louis nods as Zayn and Liam get up from their chairs. “Nice to meet you, Harry.” Liam gives Harry his contact card and they shake hands.

“Goodnight,” Louis calls out as they leave.

Harry leans back on his chair and grins at Louis. He slips his hand in his pocket to retrieve a pen, he hunches over the table, grabs a napkin and scribbles on it. He slides the napkin over to Louis, it has his number written on it and underlined twice.

“What’s this?” Louis raises his eyebrows and suppresses the blinding smile that’s about to pop out.

“It’s my number,” Harry says.

“Well, obviously, why are you giving it to me?”

“So call me maybe?” Harry sings.

“Why didn’t you just ask to register it on my phone?”

“Well, here’s the thing, Louis Tomlinson. If I did that, you’ll feel obliged to give me yours, and I didn’t want that. I want you to give it to me of your own accord.”

“Give it to you, huh?” he gives him a suggestive look which Harry dismisses.

“Anyway, I usually am smooth at chatting up people and asking for their number, but you’re a bloody celebrity, so this is my way,” Harry finishes and leans back again.

“You’re better than you think you are,” Louis says. He fishes his phone from his own pocket and dials the number tapping the green call icon.

Harry jumps from his seat and presses a hand on his left bum cheek, his eyes bugging out, as he bites his lower lip, squirming in his seat. “It’s on vibrate!” he declares, his cheeks turning vermillion and Louis laughs at him. Harry looks turned on.

Louis doesn’t end the call until Harry holds up his phone to him, “Now you have my number,” he says.

Harry smiles at him and sits back down. It turns out, Harry’s found a new bout of confidence. “Would you like to go out with me?” he says, “On a date.”

“Hmm,” Louis purses his lips, feigning that he’s actually having second thoughts. He usually doesn’t say yes to dates with people. His last real relationship ended on his second world tour, two years ago. He’s had a ton of fake girlfriends for publicity - well, not a ton - but way more than he’d like. He’s careful trying not to involve more people in his life and bring them to this crazy world, and he doesn’t want to subject them to his status. He knows all the perks of being a celebrity, but he also knows all the downs. They even used his coming out as a publicity stunt for his last album. Whatever though, he’s just glad he’s free to share that part of him with his fans. He also doesn’t date just anyone, because some only want him for his fame. Harry’s different though, he could tell, “I don’t like mixing business with pleasure.”

“Think of how much love that’s been wasted, people always try to escape it. Move on to stop their heart breaking…” Louis stops him from talking by putting a finger over his lips and smiling.

“Is this your way of convincing me?” Louis laughs, “Using lyrics I wrote?”

Harry shrugs, “If you change your mind, I’m the first in line. Honey, I’m still free, take a chance on me,” he sings again, and Louis laughs harder.

“Let’s see how long you could do this,” he says and he leans back, crossing his arms over his torso.

“If you ever wanna be in love, I’ll come around,” Harry says.

“Diverse, I love it,” he comments nodding along.

“If destiny decided I should look the other way, then the world will never know the greatest story ever told.” Harry sings this one.

“From What A Girl Wants. I love Colin Firth,” Louis grins, “Go on, you’re doing great,” he says, encouragingly.

“You know you want me,” Harry sings as he stretches his arms and shimmies, “You know I want cha!” he emphasizes the last syllable.

Louis lifts his shoulders and tilts his head, pouting his lips and raises his eyebrows.

“You can leave your toothbrush at my place?” Harry asks this one.

“I would make you stay, so I don’t have to say you were the one that got away,” Louis beams at him.

 


	2. Wouldn't It Be Beautiful

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title is from the song [ Why Can't I ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qUALb0sGdto)

Liam handles telling David the good news, as well as all the other conditions Louis imposed before taking on the project. He actually only had one condition, but knowing his management, they would not be pleased; it’s that he would not be participating in any PR schemes that are flat out lies. Sure, he’d do interviews for the show, of course, but he wouldn’t declare he’s in a relationship just to get votes for the shows. That’s the kind of stunt they would have him pull off if he weren’t adamant on being as truthful. A lot of things are already faked in reality shows - Louis should know what with being a product of it and all - but this time would be different. If he would be as honest as possible, whatever the outcome is, it will be.

Louis’ phone rings just as he is about to take a bite of his sandwich for lunch. He is seated on the dining room chair, the phone lighting up from beside the glass of water flashing Liam’s name.

He carefully sets down the sandwich and accepts the call. He presses the phone to his ear, “Leeyum,” he greets cheerfully.

“Hey, Lou.” Louis knows this call comes right after the meeting he had with the management, but Liam’s tone almost matches his cheerfulness so he thinks it went well.

“What’s up, babe?” he asks, “Did they agree?” he bites his lower lip as he waits for the reply.

“Well, they weren’t happy about it,” Liam starts, “but they didn’t really have a choice. They’re excited you agreed.”

“That’s great! Thanks for taking on the meeting on your own, Li. I really appreciate it.” Louis takes his sandwich with his free hand and takes a bite, he’s hungry and Liam would understand if he talks with his mouth full.

“No problem,” Liam answers, and the sound of people walking by and gushing about is audible from the other line, he must be at the lobby now, “So, are you ready for your date with Harry?”

Of course he’s not ready, he doesn’t think he will be, but he’s really excited. They have been texting back and forth for the last few days, and the only reason they haven’t gone out yet is that their schedules don’t match up. Except for tonight. “Bye, Liam,” he says, and he hears the other man’s low laugh before he ends the call.

It’s been four days since they met, and in that time he has learned a lot about Harry. Harry has a sister and he loves his mom to death, he used to work in a bakery during secondary school, and he’s now an architect designing homes for real estate companies. He moonlights as a singer at the pub of his best friend, Niall, for free, and he does it just for his love for music. His mom lives in Cheshire, and he had visited her for the next two days after they met. When he came back to London, he was swamped with client meetings, and Louis had studio time with Julian.

Harry picks him up five hours later. That time was used solely for showering and picking what clothes to wear. This is ridiculous. Louis is usually confident, but he wants to impress Harry so he got to thinking that his clothes would matter. He settled for black jeans that look painted on when he wears them; they’re his favorite since they highlight his bum in every good way possible. He rolls up the hems since his legs are shorter than he would’ve wanted, but then again, one can’t have everything. He picks a blue button down shirt and a black jacket and finishes the look with his new black Adidas rubber shoes.

The buzzer rings and he walks briskly towards the door. He presses a button on the intercom to activate the microphone and camera. The picture of Harry inside his car lights up the screen, and he’s just gorgeous, even in black and white, and Louis feels a little wobbly on the knees.

“Hey, Harry. Come on up,” he presses another button that automatically opens the gate to the compound.

“This is so posh,” Harry says before putting the car on drive and moving forward.

Louis opens the door and points to where Harry could park his car. He is driving a black Range Rover, and Louis can see that the interior is a creamy leather, just a shade lighter than Harry’s skin.

Harry opens the door and leans over to the passenger side, presumably to get something. Louis stands by waiting. The taller boy hops out of the car, his hair bouncing. He is wearing blue jeans which hug his thighs in all the right places, and Louis can’t help but admire them. He is also wearing brown Chelsea boots and white long sleeves, with the top three buttons undone giving Louis a peek of some of his tattoos. He had yellow tulips in his hands and a blinding smile on his face, deep dimples revealing themselves.

Louis smiles up at him, “Hey.”

Harry extends his arms, handing the flowers to Louis, “Hey, Lou.”

“Come on in. I’ll give you a tour,” Louis starts walking to the foyer, waving for Harry to follow him.

They go inside the house and Louis finds a vase to put the flowers in. It is still light outside, and the floor to ceiling windows allow the light to pour in and make the marble floors glint. Louis shows him the kitchen, the living room, the formal dining room, and the four bedrooms before they move on to his favorite spot. He can see Harry’s appreciation of the design, which he kinda likes since his home is a reflection of himself.

He shows Harry the attic last; it’s where he whiles away his time writing songs or reading books. He also goes there whenever everything gets too much.

They walk to the end of the hall where a wooden ladder is fixed on the wall. Harry is following closely behind him, complimenting him on the awards that lined the wall. He puts a hand on one of the steps. “This is where the good stuff is,” he quirks his eyebrow and starts climbing, making sure to give Harry a good view of his _ass_ ets.

He pushes the door open and hoists himself up, he flops down on his belly and pokes his head down to see how Harry is doing. “Come on then,” he tells the other boy.

Harry’s head is through the door mere seconds later, and he looks around, soaking in the view.

The two corners of the room and the roof is made of just glass giving a lovely panorama of Louis’ backyard and the skyline of London. The floor is made of mahogany and there is a plush white rug at the center of the room. One of the walls is lined with shelves filled with vinyl records and some books. There’s a keyboard, a guitar, and a drum set on the corner. And in the spot where the glass walls meet is a mattress, adorned with a white bedspread, green velvet pillows, and a blue fleece blanket.

The roof is low enough that when Harry stands, his hair grazes it. “This place is awesome; I could imagine you curled up with the blanket over there,” he speaks as he sits on the rug, folding his long legs together and running his hands over the soft carpet.

“Thanks, I love it here.” Louis takes a seat next to Harry, “So, what are we doing today?”

“I actually just want to stay here now, but I already planned on taking you to a place I know you’d appreciate.”

Louis wonders how Harry could be sure he’d like it, they’ve only known each other a few days.

“When we were kids, my mom enrolled Gemma and I in this big sibling program where we get to hang out with underprivileged kids and be their big sibling. We would play, or we could help do their assignments and stuff like that, and I always enjoyed it,” Harry continues, “So when I moved here to London, I also found another organization that would let me do the same.” He smiles at Louis, and the latter thinks he knows where this is going and he mirrors Harry’s expression, “It’s my _sister_ ’s birthday today and I promised I’d bake her a cake, and I figured you could come along?” Harry suddenly looks unsure; just like when he was about to perform he’s searching Louis’ eyes for assurance.

“That would be great, although, I’m not much for baking or cooking actually,” Louis says, starting to get up.

“It’s fine, I could teach you,” Harry says.

They head back down and Louis checks that he’s locked all the doors and activated his security. Harry once again comments that his lifestyle is so posh. _Well, isn’t he a pot calling the kettle black? He drives a Range Rover,_ Louis thinks.

Harry places his palm at the small of Louis’ back, guiding him to where he parked earlier. His hand is big, and Louis’ mind drifts off to what he could do with those long slender fingers, as his body tingles where Harry’s holding it.

He shakes the feeling off and walks steadily, at least he tries. Harry opens the passenger door for him and he gets in. He puts his seatbelt on as Harry walks around to the driver side.

They spend twenty minutes going to the children’s center. The word Wilmington is emblazoned on its wall facing the street, a black gate fencing the building. Harry parks the car in the visitor’s area and they head to the lobby carrying grocery bags with items for baking.

The security guard up front greets Harry with a smile, and so does every other employee they come across on their way to the counter where they would be registering as visitors. The concierge gives the visitor passes which they pin on their front pockets.

The interior of the room is vintage looking, all brown wood, and there’s a worn leather couch that looks soft from across the counter. Louis can see kids playing on the other room. A little girl runs from that direction, her dark brown curls bouncing with her only kept together by a tiara as her pink dress swishes around, her shoes tapping on the floor. “Haddy!” she calls out, stretching her arms up and pressing herself to Harry, her face nuzzling his thighs.

Harry drops the grocery bags and bends down to scoop her up. “Sephie!” he says with as much enthusiasm. “Happy birthday, love,” he greets and gives her a kiss on the cheek. She wraps her arms around Harry’s neck.

“Haddy! Bake cake!” she says.

“Yes, love, we’ll bake a cake.” Harry sends a wink to Louis, who grins in return. “I want to introduce you to someone,” he jostles her to his hip to free his other arm.

She turns around to face Louis and when her eyes land on him, they bug out and a flash of recognition light up her hazel eyes. Her mouth hangs agape and she looks to Harry who beams at her while nodding. She looks back at Louis who is smiling back. “Louis!” she yells and reaches out for him to carry her.

“Hey, love,” Louis drops the bags and gets her from Harry. She hugs him and buries her face in his neck. “Happy birthday!”

Harry takes all the bags, and leads Louis to the kitchen, which is through the activity room where all the other kids were playing. Harry waves at the kids, the wee ones giving him little hugs, and he even manages to give some high fives even while carrying all the ingredients they’ll be using.

The kids are older than Sephie, all of them wearing something a bit formal like their Sundays Best. There are pink and purple balloons floating to the ceiling and a banner that says ‘Happy Birthday Sephie!” with different colored handprints on the borders. Ribbons are tied on the chairs lining up both side of the long table in between the room.

Harry opens the door in the corner of the room and reveals stainless steel equipment and a counter. It looks like a professional kitchen, meant for cooking large quantities of food. The fluorescent makes the steel glint.

An old plump lady wearing a white top and a maroon apron with her hair held together by a net greets them, “Good afternoon, Harry.”

Harry places the bags on the counter, “Hello, Barbara!” he walks towards her and gives her a hug, Louis observes the exchange fondly and notices that Barbara pinches his bum and Harry squawks attractively. That’s a weird way to describe the sound he made, but to Louis, everything Harry does is attractive, so sue him.

They pull away from the embrace and Harry stretches his arm, gesturing to Louis. “Barbara, this is Louis,” he says with a smile.

Barbara also smiles up at him so he reaches out to shake her hand. “Nice to meet you,” Louis says, grinning down to her.

“You’re Louis Tomlinson,” she says, her eyes wide and shining, tears pooling around the corners.

Louis does not know what to do, and he frowns because he upset her. There’s a tug in his heart that refuses to be ignored. “I’m sorry,” he says, not even sure what for but he knows his very presence is affecting her.

Barbara dabs at the corner of her eyes, “No, love,” she says. “I’m just really glad to have met you. Your song Walking in the Wind got me through a tough time.”

Louis wants to inquire more, but he refrains, not wanting to pry. He opens himself up for a hug as much as he can with the little girl still perched on his hip. She comes in for an embrace. “That’s the best compliment I ever got,” he whispers in her ear.

They break away, the older lady brushing away the tear that escaped. She smiles up at them, giving Louis a lingering look. “Okay, lads. The aprons are over there,” she points to a spot near the refrigerator, “Harry, I trust that you know where everything else, if you need me, just use the intercom.”

They all nod, even Sephie who says, “Thanks, Miss Barbie.”

Barbara gives them a smile and walks out of the kitchen. Louis settles the little girl on the counter, beside the bags, and she swings her legs back and forth smiling up at them. “So what cake are we baking?” he asks the girl as Harry retrieves the aprons.

“Chocolate cake with yellow frosting!” she shoots her arms up in excitement.

“Here you go,” the taller boy hands Louis an apron, “It’s blue, to bring out your eyes,” he says.

“I’m already wearing blue,” Louis comments while taking the apron.

Harry smiles, “You’re wearing sky blue. This is a little darker, much closer to the shade of your irises,” he explains and shrugs.

Louis rolls his eyes, but internally he feels little jolts of electricity running through him because Harry noticed this little thing about him. He is right too, the apron’s color is close to the color of his eyes, “And is your apron pink to make your lips pop?” he asks.

Harry blows him a kiss and winks at him, raising his eyebrows suggestively while licking his lips. Totally inappropriate given that Sephie is there, but she is too consumed in bringing the ingredients out of the bag to notice. Harry digs in one of the bags, “Here’s your apron, Sephie,” he takes Louis’ place in front of her and puts on a tiny yellow apron on her and ties it around her back.

Louis takes the bowls from the overhead shelf after Harry points it out for him as he grabs a hair-tie and gatheres his wild curls to put it in a bun.

Harry prepares all the ingredients. Louis is tasked with mixing all the wet ingredients together while Harry measures all the powdery ingredients and dumps them all in a bowl. Sephie remains seated on the corner of the counter observing them while Harry explains to her what he’s doing like a host of a cooking show, which she apparently loves watching.

Harry is funny, making wild gestures as he carefully adds powdery ingredients to his bowl. “And over there, little Sephie, you’ll see Louis whisk the egg with the milk,” he points to where Louis is clueless as to what to do.

He pours the milk over the eggs and blinks at Harry. “How do you whisk?” he asks, his brows knitting together in confusion.

Harry giggles, and it’s the sweetest sound. He’s like an overgrown kid, and maybe Louis could detect endearment in the sound he just made. He takes an oblong tool from among the utensils hanging on the hooks on the wall and hands it to Louis. Louis takes it and puts the wider end in the bowl with the mixture. The bigger boy slides his fingers on Louis’ hand, which is completely engulfed in his, and begins circling the whisk around the bowl. “Do you really not know how to whisk or did you just want to hold my hand?” he whispers.

“You’re the one who wants to hold my hand, you could have just given me verbal instructions,” he says, leaning back to blow air on Harry’s ears, “Like saying ‘mix the ingredients using this tool thingy’.”

“That’s the whisk,” Harry says, “and you know I wouldn’t be opposed to you holding my hand.” Harry adds, his grip tightening. “You could do it, anytime you want. Just take my hand.”

He can smell Harry. He’s sweet like vanilla and coconut. Maybe it’s his shampoo. The saccharine scent makes him want to taste and it seems like Harry is on the same page as him because after he removes his hand, he suddenly sticks his tongue out to lick the shell of Louis’ ear and Louis squeaks, dropping the whisk in the bowl.

Harry shrugs, “Couldn’t resist,” he reasons, grinning wide. If it were someone else he’d feel disgusted, but it’s Harry, so it’s somehow okay with Louis.

He dips his hand on the excess flour still in the bag and flicks it on Harry, Sephie does the same, and they both laugh when Harry’s face is covered in powder.

Harry holds both of his arms up in surrender, laughing along with them, “Stop it, I promised Barbara the kitchen would be pristine once we’re done!” He goes to the tap to wash his face.

Louis takes the little girl to go and clean up after Harry does. Harry makes the batter and pours it into the pan to bake.

“Will you come back here?” Sephie asks while they were washing their hands, “A lot?”

“Of course!” Louis answers, “Whenever I’m free.”

“Will you sing to me?” she asks further, giving Louis a big smile as she bats her eyelashes.

“Sure, love,” he says. “What song?”

“Happy Birthday! When I blow my candles later.” Louis could almost hear the unsaid ‘duh’ with the way she rolls her eyes.

“Yes!”

They wipe their hands on the the clean towels and wait for Harry to finish lining up the cake mold.

They watch him prepare the yellow frosting and store it in the fridge. Harry gets the lasagna which just finished baking and they head back to the activity room to properly celebrate.

A blonde-haired man who is maybe a little bit older than Louis takes charge. He calls the children to attention, and they all follow him to the long table where they eat the lasagna. The children all seem to like him, calling him Petey.

While Harry is getting the cake ready, Petey leads the children to play some parlor games so that they won’t be bored. Louis helps out as best he can, even participating in some of the games. By the end of it, the children all love him as well, some of them giving him hugs and high fives just like they did Harry.

Harry emerges from the kitchen doors, the yellow cake in both of his hands, and six sparklers are embedded on the top. He takes it as his cue to carry Sephie and start singing the birthday song.

Sephie flashes her teeth in a smile and blows on the sparkler after making her wish when the last note is sung.

The cake is a big hit, as it always is with kids.

They help clean up the activity room and promise the kids that they’ll be back soon and that their next activity would be a donut party. They go to tuck Sephie in and kiss her goodnight before they leave.

“They love you over there,” Louis comments as they walk to where Harry parked the car.

“You got on with them well,” Harry bumps their shoulders, “They love you too.”

He chuckles, a high sound of laughter escaping his lips and he never does that, “Well, I’m still a kid at heart, it was easy to interact with them. It was fun.”

They reach the car after a few more rounds of banter. The sky was dark but full of stars. Harry opens the passenger door and Louis climbs in. “I’m glad you had fun, off to our next stop!” Harry pushes the door closed and hurries to get to the driver’s side.

Harry pulls them out of Wilmington’s compound and heads east, as calming music flows through the speakers. Harry’s hand rests on the gear shift, and Louis feels the urge to touch him, to feel his soft hands and calloused fingers. And it’s weird, it’s their first date, but would it be right to just hold hands? Would it be too fast? He slides his hand over Harry’s, lacing his fingers on top of Harry’s hand before he can talk himself out of it. Harry smiles at him, a little confusion in his eyes. “You said to just take your hand,” he says when Harry turns his focus on the road.

Harry gives a small nod, lifting his hand and giving it a peck, “I did say that.” So maybe it isn’t too fast.

Warmth spreads from where Harry’s lips met his knuckles, and the feeling is incredible. “You know it goes both ways, right?”

Harry just smiles.

Louis’ only known Harry for five days, but already it feels like he can trust him with his life, and that the man driving will protect him. Louis feels ready to tell him all his secrets, and to learn more about him. He wants to know what Harry thinks of everything, how he looks like in the morning, what songs he sings when he’s taking a shower, because he looks like the type to sing while cleansing himself, to find out if anyone has ever broken his heart, what he wants to be. Louis just wants to be close to him, to _know_ him, to be there for him. and if it turns out that Harry would just break his heart, he’d be okay with it. And that thought scares Louis, but it’s a good kind of scary. He just has this feeling that this will work, because everything is easy.

“Where are we going?” Louis asks when Harry lets go of his hand to shift gears. Buildings, cars, and colorful lights whirl past them, people walking on the curb mixing in the blur.

“I noticed you hadn’t eaten much, so I’m taking you to somewhere low-key,” Harry slides his arm to pinch Louis’ cheek, “You were too cute with the kids earlier, you’d rather play with them than eat.”

Louis feels the same pinprick of electricity where the Harry touched him, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to the sensation, but he loves it. As if on cue, Louis’ stomach makes a gurgling sound and he presses his hand to his abdomen, wishing for to quiet it down.

Harry laughs as blood rushes to Louis’ cheeks, embarrassment thickly showing on his face, “I guess I’m right.”

And what’s wrong with Louis? Why can’t he speak? He usually has a lot to say, cheeky comments here and there. Here with Harry, it’s different, he just wants to listen to his deep, soothing voice, and for some reason, Louis doesn’t even have to speak, Harry knows him already - gets him - and is just sure.

They sit in comfortable silence, only Fleetwood Mac playing softly in the background. They reach the destination in around fifteen minutes. It’s a quaint little building in the corner of a quiet neighborhood. The front is lined up with colorful flowers that Louis doesn’t know the name of, and a red and white striped canopy hangs over the awning covering the path to the doors. There’s a parking spot right up front which Harry seizes, swiftly maneuvering the large vehicle into a position parallel to the curb.

Harry switches off the engine and they both make their way inside the building. It’s a cozy little place, like a house turned into a restaurant, there’s a fireplace on one side, wood burning cosily It seems like a place frequented by regulars, and Louis is not surprised when one of the servers greets Harry in a familiar way. Harry even asks about her kids. Louis feels a pang of jealousy. He wishes that he had a shared history with Harry too, but maybe sharing the rest of their lives is a good alternative.

The inside is bathed in warm light, casting dark shadows on the hardwood floors. The same server leads them to a corner booth, the seats covered in red leather. They take their seat, and Louis is a bit grateful that no one noticed him. Not that he is expecting them to, but it’s one of the hazards his job comes with.

Laminated menu cards are already on their table, so Louis takes one and scans the items for something he likes.

“I’d suggest something, but everything is actually really good here,” Harry says from across the table.

That comment actually did help Louis decide on something, oddly enough, “The true test of how good a restaurant lies on their chicken parmigiana, I believe. The chicken needs to be tender, and the breading crunchy but not burnt, the noodles al dente, and the tomato sauce not too sour, and the cheese, melted to the right consistency,” he goes on to explain like a professional chef.

Harry gives him an amused look. Creases form on his forehead but his thin lips are stretched to a smile and his dimples are making a show. “That’s… descriptive, and that’s exactly how their chicken parm is! You should try it.”

Louis nods, and the server takes a small pad of paper and a pen from her apron pocket and poises to write down their order. Harry orders the chicken for Louis, pesto pasta for himself, and a plate of extra cheesy nachos to share.

The waitress walks towards the kitchen to place their orders. “So, are you as excited for the show as I am?” Harry asks.

Normally, Louis really does not want to mix business with pleasure, but Harry is going to be part of both so he thinks it’ll be okay, and besides, he’s got something to say, “I’m excited to be working with you, yeah.” He bites his lip, unsure if he should continue.

Harry across him notices, because of course he does, “I can feel a ‘but’ coming,” he prompts.

“It’s just that, I know you’re excited, but are you ready for your life to change?” He asks in earnest.

Harry looks confused, a frown forming in his face as he starts thrumming his fingers on the table.

“I mean, you might not have quiet nights out like this for a while... it took me four years before I could go out and eat without people noticing me, and it’s just me. If they saw you, they’ll be completely charmed by you, and they’ll love you to bits, but it would also take time before they leave you alone.” There’s also a part of Louis that feels selfish because he doesn’t want to share Harry with the rest of the country, especially since they’re only starting to get to know each other. “But it’ll also be great for you to be able to share your music to the world, if that’s what you really want to do.”

“Four years isn’t that bad,” Harry says, “Plus, I’m not a shoo-in, I’m actually into it because of the exposure it could provide not only to me, but also Niall’s pub. And, I’ve read the rules, coaches are in charge of everything, even publicity for their contestants, and I trust that you would handle everything as you would if it were your own career.” The corners of his mouth pulls up from the frown, “I’m also really excited to work with this amazing artist, almost everyday,” his eyes twinkle in the soft light, eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks.

Louis’ heart gets cloudy, the fluffy kind of cloudy, sort of like Harry’s hair. The Harry cloud. It’s filled with fondness and adoration, light and endearment, and they haven’t even kissed yet.

The world better beware, Harry Styles is gonna take it by storm.

 


	3. Every Little Thing He Does

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title is from this [ song. ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BfSi47EZS-Q)

 

Louis wakes up with a head full of curls in his face; he can’t really complain, though, since it is lush and soft and he just wants to bury himself in it. It still smells of coconut even after the night they’ve had. His left arm is wrapped around the bigger man’s torso, while his right is stretched across the bed, Harry’s head resting on his bicep. Louis’ knee is in between Harry’s thighs, the other draped over the boy he is cuddling.

Louis presses himself closer, feeling the naked skin of Harry’s stomach with his fingers, careful not to wake him up as he remembers the details of last night.

They ended up going for a very long walk around the neighborhood of the restaurant, and they circled a three-block radius countless times; the soft wind blew on their faces, but they kept each other’s hands warm. They talked about their childhood, and how they realized they weren’t straight. Louis told him about his experience in the X Factor, and Harry shared stories during his years in university. They talked about the pressures they were under, and the dreams they had.

The people in the streets were scarce, but there were some who recognized Louis. They stopped and chatted with them for a while, no one daring enough to ask for a picture, content with just talking.

Before they knew it, it was already past midnight. Only the street lights were turned on, and the roads were deserted. Harry had driven him back home.

He had stopped the Range Rover in front of the door, and had climbed off to open the passenger door for Louis. Louis had waited patiently by his side, his heart beating just a tad faster because it felt like one of those doorstep scenes in movies.  _ Would he or would he not kiss me?  _ Louis had been torn, everything with Harry had been great so far, but would a kiss on the first date ruin it? Don’t get him wrong, Louis had been thinking of those plump, pink lips every day since the day he met Harry, but would kissing them be a let down?

Of course it was not. God, it was not.

Harry had opened the passenger door and just as Louis was about to go down, his wide shoulders had blocked the way so Louis remained seated. He cocked his head in confusion, but before he could speak, Harry had taken his hand in his, giving it the gentlest of kisses.

Louis had swung his body to face Harry, his feet landing firmly on the vehicle’s step board. He had wanted more, so he had used the same hand to caress Harry’s cheek as his own flamed at what he was about to do. He turned his face so they looked directly into each other’s eyes.

He had been searching for answers, and he had been surprised by what he saw. Harry’s dark eyes had been wide open, giving him what he was looking for. He wanted the same thing Louis did.

The night had been dark, only the moon and the glow from inside the house giving them light.

He wasn’t not even been sure who started it. Both of them had surged forward at the same time and pressed their lips together. The sensation of it had been just like how Louis thought it would be. Harry’s lips were full and giving, soft and velvety against Louis’ own. The force he had used to kiss Louis was gentle but fervent, earnest and unrelenting. Harry’s lips had tasted like chocolate - the type they had for dessert. It had only lasted for a few heated seconds, but it felt like they had been doing it their whole lives. Lips perfectly fitted together with their noses slotted just the right way.

Louis had not really known what to do with his hands. It didn’t matter though, because Harry had taken a step back. “I thought you’d never kiss me,” he had declared, as he pushed his hands on Louis’ thighs.

Heat emanated from where their bodies were in contact. “Are you kidding me? I’ve been thinking about it since the bar,” Louis said as he pulled Harry in and kissed him again.

The second kiss was more urgent than the first. Louis’ hand had traced up Harry’s upper arm, while the other ran down the back of his spine. He had pulled Harry while he moved his body closer and closer to him, until he was on the edge of the seat, and Harry’s hips had slid between his legs.

Harry had grazed his hair with his fingertips, gently scratching his scalp with light touches. His other hand had been lightly resting on his shoulders with his thumb drawing along the collarbones.

Louis had laced his fingers through Harry’s hair and tugged a little, eliciting a low moan from the other boy. His neck had been exposed, and Louis had thought it’d be a shame not to do something about it. He peppered kisses from the corner of Harry’s lips, down to his jaw, until he had reached Harry’s pulse point. Louis had given it a kitten lick and kissed it. He had sucked on it until he was sure a perfectly purple bruise would show. He soothed it with his tongue, and Harry had groaned at the sensation.

Louis had brought back his lips on his and had asked Harry to open up by nudging his lips with his tongue. Harry did, and they had met halfway, tasting each other and moaning. Harry’s big hand had dropped to his thigh, giving it a squeeze and a gentle rub until it had rested dangerously close to his crotch.

Louis had been breathing heavily, seeking contact. Harry had placed a hand on Louis’ back and had guided him closer so their chests flush together. His other hand had moved to cup Louis’s crotch, and the boy had moaned in pleasure, a low guttural sound escaping his lips as he continued to kiss Harry.

He had never been that close to anyone else in a long time; had never wanted it more than he wanted to with Harry. He wants to do everything with Harry, do everything for Harry, be everything for Harry.

Harry had palmed between his legs, and Louis could feel blood rush to his dick as it stirred and twitched in his tight pants. Harry had moved his head so that Louis’ was resting on his shoulders. Louis had held his sides; his clutch had tightened with every movement of Harry’s  big hands.

Harry had pressed his palm harder and Louis couldn’t help but grind his hips at the contact. Delicious friction sent waves of pleasure from his groin up to his navel. His legs moved of their own accord and wrapped around Harry’s waist, sealing any form of space between them so that not even air could pass through.

Was it too soon to feel that way? Did anyone ever feel that way after the first date? The better question had to be: was he ready to give himself away? Yes, he had thought that he would be willing to give everything to Harry and it would just be another adventure, but there was also a part of him that had wanted to preserve himself, and take it slow. Everything had already been too fast, too soon, and what if it’s all ruined?

“We need to stop, Harry,” he said softly as he gave him a kiss on the spot where his neck met his shoulders.

Harry had stopped and his palms rest on the leather on either side of Louis, but he had still been wearing a smile. His lips had been bitten red and his cheeks were rosy from the heat of what they had been just doing.

Louis had looked down on his lap, not daring to see the expression on Harry’s face. “I’m sorry,” he had said, overly fascinated with the cloth covering his thighs.

“There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Harry cupped his chin and looked into his eyes. “It’s our first date, Lou. I think I just got carried away.” He had smiled but then added, “Because you’re so fit.”

_ How can he be so understanding? _ Louis had thought. _ Well maybe because he is a decent person so maybe when it comes to Harry, he should just express himself and not second guess. _ “It’s not that I don’t want to, because I  _ do _ want to.”

“Yes, I did have a feeling you wanted to,” Harry had quirked his eyebrows and had let his glance shift briefly onto Louis’ crotch.

And Louis had been very aware that he had been hard. He shifted slightly so his erection wouldn’t be quite that obvious, but it didn’t matter anyway.

“Just, not yet,” Harry had verbalized his thought. “It’s totally fine, love. It’s late anyway, I should head home,” he had said, but his arms were still been flanked on either side of Louis.

Louis had craned his neck to give him a chaste kiss. “You could stay the night, it’s already late,” he had said.

“Are you sure?” Harry inquired.

“Yes, I have a lot of spare bedrooms.”

Obviously they did not end up on separate bedrooms. They drank tea before kissing some more and lazily making out in Louis’ bed until they both fell asleep.

Louis doesn’t remember how they got into the position they were in now. The sun’s rays illuminate the bedroom, the white covers brightening up. The exposed skin of Harry’s arm is glowing, and his soft snores are the only sound in the morning.

He’s so lucky right? He was just searching for a talent, but he ends up finding Harry, who looks like he walked straight out of Louis’ imagination, who has a kind heart and loves kids, who bakes cakes and sings, and who seems to like Louis as much as he does him.

Harry’s legs tense, his toes curling in a stretch. He holds tight on Louis’ arm before turning around to face him.

He smiles at Louis, his eyes blinking away the brightness of the light. His right cheek is red where it rested on Louis’ arm throughout the night.

Louis moves his head away, his lips forming a tight smile, not wanting to subject Harry to his morning breath.

“Good morning,” Harry greets, his voice gruff and low.

Louis covers his mouth, extracting his hand from Harry’s grip. “Good morning,” he says.

Lines appear on Harry’s forehead, his nose scrunching up in the way it did when he wants to stifle a laugh. He removes Louis’ hand from his face and kisses him sweetly. Louis’ is surprised and his eyes grow wider, Harry just giggles and says, “My breath is probably just as stale.” Somehow, Louis finds that he doesn’t really mind.

 

…oOo…

 

“Hey!” Harry says, looking up from his phone. Louis looks at him from the other end of the couch, raising his eyebrows in question. “Our first date already exceeds twenty-four hours.”

Louis looks at the black analog clock in the corner of the living room. It’s true, it is already six pm, the sky outside looking a little pinker because of the setting sun.

It’s also quite surprising that he has not felt the need to make Harry go home. He’s one of those people who could only stand company for about three to four hours, then he would need his alone time.

Everything is different with Harry, though. It’s as if the time they’ve spent together is still not enough. They’ve talked some more, and Louis opened up about Derek.

Derek was his first boyfriend. They met during Louis’ first world tour, where he worked as an assistant to the equipment manager. They flirted and had secret dates until Louis wanted to come out. His management encouraged him not to. Fearing that he might not sell as an artist, he followed their advice.

At first it was working out well, they still got to go out in discreet places, they would share hotel rooms, they practically travelled the whole world together. But then, his second world tour came, and PR did not deem it enough that Louis seemed available to his audience. He needed stability. He needed a girlfriend. He went on publicity dates with a string of women until Eleanor became the permanent fixture in all these stunts.

He spent less time with Derek, well out, at least. They still managed to go on private dates, usually spent at home, or ordering room service in whatever hotel they were staying in. Derek claimed he didn’t mind, urged Louis to do what’s best for his career, that it would not matter in the long run. That in the end, the world will know the truth, and they would be together, and they’d come out stronger.

Louis could not believe his luck, he had a wonderful career, and a loving, supportive boyfriend. Then the covert dates weren’t enough, what Louis offered was not enough, or at least it just was not for him. On his last concert date, after performing fifteen songs, there was an intermission before the encore. He went backstage for a wee, since the actual toilets were ages away, they had a portable one. He gave himself time to do his thing, but there was a slight banging on the other side of the fixture. When he was done he rounded the blue Portaloo to find a young blonde girl leaning up against it and Derek’s tongue down her throat.

He was conscious enough to turn off his lapel mic before going backstage. He wanted to scream, wanted to make a scene, wanted to gouge his eyes out, but he didn’t. Instead he calmly tapped his shoulder and cleared his throat.

They looked up at him, faces red from embarrassment, or maybe just from the kissing they were just doing. Louis did not wait for a clarification before he spoke. “We’re through, no explanations necessary,” he shrugged his shoulders, “In case it isn’t clear, you’re fired.”

Derek was speechless, both of them had had the decency to disentangle themselves from each other before Louis turned away. He took a few steps forward to go back to the stage before turning his head just to the side so they’d know he was referring to them “Both of you,” he added. He would not blame the girl if she didn’t know that Derek was in a relationship, but she knew, everyone in his crew knew. Only a non-disclosure agreement kept them from spilling the beans.

He didn’t know what powered him through the encore - he sang a total of four more lively songs. If he was a tad less enthusiastic, the audience did not notice. He kept running around the stage, smiling like nothing in the world was wrong, like the only place he’d ever want to be was that stage. And maybe in that moment, it was.

He broke down afterwards, called up his mother and went straight to her. It’s a good thing the last tour date was in London, just a three-hour drive away from Doncaster.

It took him a while before he realized that it was not his fault Derek cheated. There was just no excuse for cheating, ever. Sure his career put a strain on their relationship, but Derek should have gone and talked to him about it, and not go around pretending everything was fine and make Louis blame himself.

Derek showed up once to his house, but only to apologize. Louis accepted it, and moved on.

He wanted to come out, and convinced his management that he could do it, since the industry climate changed a bit and became more open to queer artists. Of course, his management just saw it as an opportunity for publicity and waited until the week before the release of the album to do it. Louis was able to do it his way, though, not giving any magazine or TV show the exclusive. He restored his old Youtube account, where he posted video diaries during his stint in The X Factor, and just posted a video, basically saying that he’s gay as a rainbow unicorn.

The response was overwhelmingly positive, fans vowing to continue supporting him, praising him for being brave. Louis was just happy he could share that part of him to the world. Coming out, however, did not make things easier on his love life. He’s very careful of bringing new people in his world, afraid of a repeat of his first relationship.

He’s told all these to Harry of course. 

They’re now lounging on Louis’ living room. The sun is about to set, once again filling the room with a peachy warm glow. “Is this your way of telling me you want to go home?”

Harry swings his legs over and rest them on Louis’ lap, a look of incredulity coloring his face, he scratches his head and ties his hair up in a bun, and leaning his back on the armrest, “I’m just making an observation, Lou. It has been twenty-four hours, I’m surprised you haven’t kicked me out yet,” he says.

Louis squeezes his calves, and Harry automatically flexes the muscles there, to which Louis rolls his eyes, secretly endeared. “That’s good, because I want you to stay,” he says, as he leans back and flicks through the channels of the television which has been playing them a show in the background for a good couple of hours already.

“I can’t actually stay longer,” Harry sits up, folding his legs up, lotus style. Louis waits for his explanation with his arms crossed over his body. “It’s my last performance at Niall’s, before the show starts.” He slides over next to Louis so that their shoulders are touching. And there it is again, tingles in every part of them that are close. “If last night had gone according to plan, I would have invited you to go, but you might already be sick of me.”

Louis lifts his hand to tug on a stray curl on Harry’s nape. “I’m not sick of you.” Louis says, bring a smile to  Harry’s face, “Not yet, at least,” he adds to sound like he’s not at all excited at the prospect of Harry wanting to spend more time with him.

“Would you like to go?” Harry turns his body toward him, and Louis can’t help but notice how the shirt fits too snugly on Harry, the fabric stretched taut across his muscular pecs, his nipples ready to bore a hole through it.

Louis lifts his gaze to Harry and gives him a quick peck, “Sure, why not? Maybe I should get a different talent after all.”

Harry just laughs, “Yeah right, as if you’d have the patience.”

And there, another comment that makes it seem like he’s known Louis for a very long time. He is right, of course, Louis doesn’t have the time, the patience, nor the energy to do another pub crawl in search for a person even half as good as Harry at singing.

 

…oOo…

 

After dropping by Harry’s flat to get a change of clothes, and a constant barrage of text messages from Niall stringing notification after notification on his phone, worrying that he wouldn’t make it to the show, they finally make it to his pub.

It is fuller than the first time Louis has been there, people actually queuing up outside to get in, but of course, since Harry is well-connected, they get in without a hitch. All the seats are occupied and even the stools in the bar are all taken; some people are even standing around. There are couples swaying to the slow music the current performer is singing to.

Harry takes Louis’ hand and pulls him towards a corner. Louis appreciates the way the warm light hits the lock of curls licking Harry’s shoulder, making it look lighter and darker at the same time.

Louis looks around and realizes that the people are here to see Harry since a poster hangs with a notice that it’d be his last performance for a while. A swell of pride fills his heart, happy that other people can see what he sees in him.

He lets his feet follow Harry’s, noticing that his grip is tightening and his hand is completely enveloped by Harry’s big palm and long fingers.

A mop of blonde hair peeks out from a room tucked away in the corner of the pub. He quickly saunters over to them, adjusting his black rimmed glasses, lifting it to the bridge of his nose.

Harry lets go of his hand and gives the guy a hug, his forehead rests on his shoulder as his hands reach around Harry giving him two taps on the back. “I told you I’d be here, Niall,” Harry tries to whisper in his ear, but the pub is noisy and Harry’s voice level is loud enough that even Louis could hear.

Louis misses the warmth Harry’s hand provided. They pull away and he rests an arm on Louis’ shoulder, gently squeezing him to his side. “Niall, this is Louis,” he says pointing to him.

Louis extends his arm to shake the other man’s. Niall’s grasp is firm but gentle. “Nice to meet you,” Louis says.

“You’re the guy who’s taking my Harry away,” Niall pouts, but his tone and eyes convey that it was a lighthearted joke. “He’s the only one keeping me in business, and you’re taking him away.”

Harry messes up his hair, “Oh, shush, you. You know this pub would be featured in the show.”

“You’d be in the feature too,” Louis says as both the boys battle at styling his quiff. “Use your Irish charm to pull those customers,” he continues.

“I guess you’re right,” he says, looking at Louis with sincere eyes. “Take care of him, and don’t let him turn into a complete diva; he’s already got a big head now.”

With that, Harry thumps Niall’s head softly with an accompanying, “Hey”.

Louis snickers, “Don’t worry, I’ll give him a slap in the head if he acts diva-ish.”

“Kinky, aren’t we?” Niall asks with a quirk of his eyebrows that matches the devious grin on his face.

“Shut up,” Harry demands, “Can I borrow your guitar? I didn’t want to bring mine tonight.”

Niall tsks and shakes his head, “Not even on the show yet, but already making demands. It’s in the storage.”

A couple leaves a table near them and Louis is quick enough to grab a seat before any other takers get there first. Harry presses a kiss to his forehead before heading off to the room where Niall came from.

Louis gets comfortable observing the people milling about, drinking their booze, and having fun. His phone vibrates in his pocket and sees a text from Liam. He invited him and Zayn earlier, sending a quick text.

Liam:  _ where are you? The pub is packed _ .

Louis lifts his head from the screen and searches the room for Zayn’s cheekbones; they would stand out in the crowd. He sees Zayn’s frosted tips instead and raises his hand to wave them over.

They walk to where Louis is and sit in the chairs across him. “Hey,” Liam greets, giving Louis a high five.

Zayn smiles at him, ever mysterious and of only a few words. “What’s up?” he asks.

“I should be the one asking you that,” Liam grins at him while taking a hold of his boyfriend’s hand. “How did your date go?”

He feels his insides sizzle, a blush creeping onto his face. “Uhmm, it’s technically still going,” he replies bashfully.

Liam looks at him with shock, his eyes like saucers, the corners of his grin reaching high. Even Zayn gasps softly.

“Before you ask, no, I did not shag him. It’s not like that with him.”

“Uh huh,” Liam says, clearly not believing him.

The lights grow dimmer, and the stage lights up. Harry is already seated on his stool, his microphone adjusted to just the right height.

He sings five songs. He starts of with a slow song by Kodaline, and gradually increases the tempo throughout the set and ending with Def Lepard’s Pour Some Sugar On Me, complete with the gyrating of his hips, using the mic stand as a pole. Louis must admit that it caused a hot sizzling feeling in the lower part of his navel, tickling his insides. The crowd is roaring with delight and laughter. Some were even lustful. Louis sure is.

Harry takes a courteous bow, leaves the guitar on a table on the back of the stage and makes his way to Louis, people shaking his hands or slapping him on the back on his path. He does not tell them the reason for his abrupt hiatus from the pub, just bites back his grin whenever they ask.

They get sloshed with booze that Niall keeps bringing to their table, and one can’t really blame Louis if he does not sleep in his own bed that night, opting to stay with Harry in his flat.

They spend the rest of the night drunkenly making out in his living room, but they are tired to do anything else, which is a bit of a shame, really, but you can’t argue with biology.

Louis wakes up covered in a blanket, Harry’s heat gone from his side of the bed. His head pulses with hangover, it’s a good thing the room has those blinders that block out the sun, or else he would be blinded by the light. He reaches over the nightstand to flick the lamp open. The room is bathed in orange light, just enough for Louis to make sense of his surroundings.

On Harry’s pillow rests a yellow Post-It note with scribbled words.

_ Did you know you snore? _

_ Went for a jog, helps with the hangover. _

_ Make yourself at home, I’ll be back around 9. _

_ -H _

Seriously, Harry is the only person who could jog off a hangover.

Louis looks at his phone to find that it was another thirty minutes before Harry’s to be back. He figures that he’d better go home now, because he thinks he will not have the strength to go if Harry is there. He needs to feed Haley as well- the cat must be hungry after a long night by herself.

Louis picks up his jacket from wear it lay on top of the ottoman and puts it on. He then shimmies into his jeans and pulls on his shoes.

He calls up a cab to pick him up in ten minutes. He steals - well, maybe  _ borrows _ would be the proper word since he’d return it anyway - a beanie and a pair of aviators from Harry.

He checks his reflection in the mirror; he looks happy even with the dark circles framing his eyes due to the night before. He smiles, and he’s amazed to see that it reaches his eyes, crinkles forming in the corners.

He smoothes his jacket, making sure he at least looks presentable. He leaves his own note on the nightstand, writing on the back of Harry’s.

_ I do not snore. I sleep like an angel. _

_ Sorry I left, the first date had to end some time. _

_ And I might not go if you’re here. _

_ -Louis _

He walks out of the flat, noting that Harry locked the door, so he does too, hoping that Harry brought a key with him. He walks down the hall to the lifts and head out of the building. His cab is waiting for him by the time he’s out through the double doors.

So maybe they’ve had the longest first date ever. It doesn’t really matter that Louis’ insides go mushy at the thought, and it’s also not a big deal that after spending a long time with Harry, he still misses him.

Maybe he should just ask the cabbie to return him to his building, but another part of him says that it’d be good for Harry to miss him- absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?

Louis’ phone dings when he’s reunited with his bed.

Harry:  _ If you didn’t want to see me anymore, you could have just said so. :( I planned on making pancakes. _

Okay, so he was a little brash in deciding to leave. It’s just that he’s already forgotten what it’s like to be in a relationship. He likes all the good feelings, but it’s scary too. He does not know what he would have done if he had seen Harry that morning; he needs a little bit of a break to figure out what he’s feeling. Louis needs to assess whether their relationship would actually progress; not wanting to plunge head first without knowing where it was all going.

He decides to call Harry instead of replying. He picks up after the first ring. “Haz, I’m sorry I left. I just didn’t want you to deal with my mess,” he says not sure if he’s talking about his mind as a mess or the mess he’d leave in Harry’s place. “I still want to see you, of course,” he pauses waiting for Harry to reply.

The silence from the end of the other line is bothering him, “Haz.” Shit, what if Harry is really pissed?

Then laughter rings through his ears. “I’m sorry, I can’t keep it up,” more giggles, “it’s okay that you went home, Lou. I know I can’t keep you forever.”

“You’re mean,” Louis says as relief washes over him.

“Yeah, but I bet you already miss me,” Harry says.

Well, it is true.


	4. If You Want Me Let Me Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from [Borderline](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MTjU_qNrvHY)

 

It’s a good thing Louis had a head start in finding his contestant. He is sitting in one of BBC’s big conference rooms; it’s quite familiar to him. During his stint in The X Factor, it’s also where the producers held meetings with the contestants. The room is flooded with fluorescent light; only small windows near the ceiling give access to the outside world. The room is filled with people, but only the coaches, the hosts, and the producers are sitting down. There are at least two more people standing for every person seated.

Louis himself had Liam and Michael with him. He is situated between Robbie Williams and Cheryl Cole listening intently to the producer, Selma, at the head of the table going on and on about the rules for the show. She finishes her brief in about fifteen minutes and is replied to by several nods around the table. She smiles at everyone, “I guess it’s safe to presume that every one of you already have your contestants?” she asks.

Adele speaks up first, “I wouldn’t have said yes to this project If I didn’t.” The others laugh, probably thinking the same thing.

“That’s great, if everyone already has their bets, then we could brief them tomorrow and get everything sorted. The studio is already thinking of cutting the current show and the sooner we get to air the pilot for Next Big Star the happier they’ll be,” Selma says as she taps her pen on the table.

A few exchanges take place and the coaches are informed of the time and place for the contestants’ briefing, their representatives taking notes.

It feels overwhelming to know that the other coaches have years more of experience in the industry than he has, and maybe Louis’ a little insecure that he probably has the least talent. There’s Robbie Williams, who was his idol since he first started to sing; Cheryl Cole, one of the judges who said ‘yes’ to him during his own audition; Sam Smith, who writes songs so beautiful it breaks your heart; Adele, who’s, well, Adele; and Ed Sheeran; with whom he wrote songs with and has literally been a musician all his life, busking to earn money. And then there’s Louis, how could he even compare? He just takes comfort in the fact that they probably wouldn’t have asked him to join if he’s not in their league.

 

…oOo…

 

The contestants’ briefing is held in the same place and is basically a rehash of the previous day. They are made to sign the contract for the show which includes a basic non-disclosure clause as well as a non-defamatory clause.

A copy of the contract was actually already sent to them in advance, so they have been given a chance to go over it.

None of the terms has to be changed since all the artists deem it fair. Louis thinks Next Big Star will be a much fairer, friendlier, and realer reality show than all the others.

Harry is excited to meet all the other coaches. They stay a bit even after the meeting is adjourned, the tall boy making rounds with Louis as he introduces him to the other coaches. Louis likes this part of his job, being able to let Harry get to know artists he likes.

They all love him. Of course they do. They’ve also got some big competition. One of the contestants is a music teacher with tons of experience. Robbie actually held auditions to find his while Ed also found his by lurking through bars.

This just means they have to work on their performances harder, which leads to him spending more time with Harry, so he can’t really complain.

 

…oOo…

 

Niall’s Pub is closed down for the filming of Harry’s discovery. It’s a Friday, and it’s weird seeing the place flooded with tense crew and shiny black filming equipment. Niall opted that it be done during the morning when he had less customers. He is well-compensated though so in return he offers free drinks to everyone inside the small space.

A handful of people were hired to fill in the seats near the stage while Harry performs. Louis and Liam are at one of those tables.  A cameraman is seated where Zayn was when Harry was actually found.

Only a quarter of the room has an audience in every table, and by some editing magic, Louis is sure that it would look like the whole place is teeming with customers.

They do a take of Louis and Liam listening while Harry plays a song, and even though he isn’t part of the frame yet, he still gives a very good performance, his vocals on point and reverberating in the room. Louis doesn’t want to think about it too much but, it seems like Harry was singing directly to him, staring at him and sending him a wink every now and then, and it makes him smile and giggle every time. And goodness, people are going to see how gone he is for Harry, aren’t they?

In-The-Moment interviews are taken by the bar. Louis, Niall, and Harry took turns in sitting in the center stool, the shelf lined up with different kinds of liquor providing the background for the interview.

He is asked about what he is looking for in his contestant and he describes how Harry fits the bill to a T. He also gives away how he’d ask Harry to be his contestant, and some of his strategies to win the competition. He steers clear from their date, and the obvious attraction he felt when he first saw him, but that might be clear when the episode airs.

He stays near the interviewer when Harry and Niall does theirs. Niall charms them, of course he does, smiling brightly into the camera, and actually flirting with non-existent audiences, urging them to go to his pub. People will be pouring in the pub steadily when this interview airs. They are interviewed together and then separately. They share their history as friends and Niall waxes poetic on Harry’s talent. They tell the interviewer about being flatmates during their uni years.

In his individual interview, Harry is bursting with excitement; Louis has never seen him gesticulate so hugely before. He keeps bobbing his thighs making his upper body jiggle a little with the motion. When Harry looks at him, he mouths the word, “relax,” and the boy settles down a bit. His hair was styled for the interview, much more voluminous than usual, his lips have gloss on them and the overhead lights makes them sparkle, and Louis wants to kiss them but he waits.

Harry is meant to do this. After the silent encouragement from Louis, he settles into it and just answers the interview questions truthfully.

The final set of interview is of both of them, they are asked again of their strategies and how they think they’d work together. Louis carries the interview, with Harry chiming in every now and again at all the right places. Every time Harry talks, Louis looks at him proudly, at one point he even wraps his arm around Harry’s shoulder to clue in the viewers of their close relationship.

The crew finishes packing up around an hour later, the segment producer giving Niall a cheque for his trouble.

 

…oOo…

 

Live performances aren’t until the fourth episode, the first three are dedicated to introducing the coaches and the contestants to the audience, interspersed with the mechanics of the game, and a lot of adverts from the sponsors.

One of the conditions of the show is that coaching sessions have to be filmed- each team is given a GoPro camera to film footage of at least two hours a day.

So the week leading up to the airing of the pilot, Louis and Harry comply. Harry goes to Louis’ house everyday after work, and they hole up in his studio in the basement.

It’s not really a spacious room since it is filled up with a lot of stuff. The walls are lined with charcoal grey insulation to make it soundproof. In a corner there is another set of drums, on either side of it is a keyboard and a guitar. In the middle of the room, in front of the recording booth, is the soundboard. A monitor is on top of it and two swivel chairs are near it.

There’s also a well-worn brown couch behind the swivel chairs, totally in contrast with the way the studio looks slick and professional, with the way it reminds Louis of home. It’s the exact same couch where he and his sisters would watch cartoons from. He got when his mom had the twins and had to move.

In the recording booth, there is a podium for holding sheet music, a circular microphone pad which hangs from the ceiling, and a matching pair of headphones.

If it was up to Louis, he’d rather work in the attic where there’s natural lighting. The studio feels cramped for him, too professional and doesn’t encourage productivity, at least for him. Julian has always been productive there when they have their writing sessions. Louis mainly installed that studio so that he could record there hassle free, without having to be pressured to do everything at once on his label’s money.

So the reason they’re not working in the attic is that Louis is not ready to share the place with anyone. The only people who’ve been there aside from Liam and his family is Harry. He seems like one of those people Louis trusts, and it’s hard to feel that intensely about someone and not know where you stand. Sometimes Louis wants to bring it up, but he also does not want to distract Harry, with the show going on and stuff. So he thinks he’ll just wait it out.

Louis sets up the keyboard and sits behind it, Harry is on the other side, loosening his tie and then stretching his back. They’re about to do vocal scales. “Why are you looking at me that way?” Harry asks.

And Louis has to still himself. Ok, so he was maybe kinda ogling the way Harry’s fingers flexed, and the veins running on his hand move while he removes his tie, and the way his chest shows when he unbuttons his longsleeve.  _ God, he was fit _ . Louis flexes his hands ready to tap away at the keys. He looks at Harry pointedly, hoping that he conveys through his eyes his message, that a camera was there watching them. “Let’s start,” he simply says.

Harry must get it because he just squares his shoulders.

Louis presses the keys and does the first vocal scale to warm up, and Harry repeats it. Each repetition takes the scale to a higher note, and Louis notices that every time Harry goes for the high note, he tiptoes and sometimes even reaches his hand upward as if the note is corporeal. Louis finds it cute, and he stops when Harry’s voice became too small during the high notes.

They warm up for around ten minutes before Harry is in the booth recording the first song he’ll be singing live for the show. It was a good idea for Harry to know how he sounds like, and have an inkling of what he can do, and maybe Louis just wants a personal track...either way it’s good and it’ll benefit them both.

They do finish the required number of hours to be filmed, and as soon as Louis turns off the camera, Harry’s lips are on his.

Harry leans into him, bracing his hands on either side of Louis, gripping the armrest so he’s got Louis caged. Louis kisses him back with as much fervor, slipping his hand up Harry’s waist and guiding him to sit on his lap.

This happens for the rest of the week: they do the recording, they make out, they get dinner delivered, some more kissing follows, and then Harry goes home to his place after things get so heated up that Louis is desperate for release, his own hands and fingers taking care of the rest when he’s alone.

It must get frustrating for Harry, he thinks, but he doesn’t bring it up ever, so bless him. He’s reluctant to do anything more than kiss Harry and feel him up and Louis is sure why. Louis attaches a lot of emotion onto sex, he values the trust a person gives when they share their body with him because it also takes a lot for him to trust a person so he assumes it’s as big a deal for them as it is for him. But the reality is, not all people view sex the same way, and that’s okay, since sex could be fun. What if Harry is one of those people? Then sex with him would just lead to his own heart breaking. And Louis might sometimes feel like that’s okay, especially when things are going and Harry’s body is flushed against his and he feels the same desperation, but a rational part of him always goes on and stops him.

 

…oOo…

 

The second episode of Next Big Star airs and they all decide to watch it at Louis’ place since he has a media room. The second episode is when the feature about Harry and Louis is presented. He invites Liam and Zayn, while Harry invites Niall.

They’re all seated on the couches, Niall claiming the Lazyboy, and Liam and Zayn taking the loveseat while Harry and Louis are in the three-seater sofa, Haley sitting on Louis’ lap.

The overture plays and Jack Whitehall’s face fills the screen. He’s hosting it with Olly, and what a pair those two make!

Harry takes a slice of pizza from the box open on the table in the center of the room. He leans back just in time to hear his name being announced and to see his face lighting up the screen. Louis observes his expression, slightly surprised and slightly bashful. “That’s you,” he says, pointing at the screen and giggling.

“I know, I can’t believe it,” Harry says.

Louis takes a slice of his own and bites on it.

They watch relatively in silence - well, the two of them at least. When the TV shows their joint interview, the other lads keep teasing them about how they can’t keep their eyes off off each other, always a lingering look here and there, and loud laughs when the other quips a joke. There was a time Louis tucked Harry’s curl behind his ear, or Harry fixes the collar of Louis’ shirt- little things Louis wasn’t even aware of during the interview.

What surprises him most is the way Harry looks at him when he speaks, listening intently as his eyes fix on the way Louis’ lips move.

They are still blushing by the time they send the three boys on their way home.

Louis waits for their cars to be outside his property before he presses the button to close his gate. He sighs and turns around almost hitting Harry who is standing too close, a shit-eating grin coloring his face.

“You like me, don’t you?” he asks, crossing his arms over his chest and nudging his chin to the side, smug.

Louis tries to take step back but the heel of his foot hit the wall so he just leans as Harry crowds him and stammers out a reply, “I – ahh,”

Harry cuts him off by singing, “If you want my body and you think I’m sexy, come on, sugar let me know.”

Louis laughs and presses a hand on Harry’s sternum to push him away. “You could say I’m fond of you,” he says trying his not to smile at the way Harry keeps repeating that line and shimmies a little. “You’re the one who likes me,” that line makes Louis feels like his back in primary school, he’s hating himself for not having filtered it out before saying it.

Harry giggles and places both hands on top of his shoulders, “I’ve made it obvious, done everything but sing it…” he sings again, and seriously, does he have a lyric as a response for every question Louis asks? But it’s still near the actual confirmation Louis wants.

Harry’s face suddenly gets serious, his grip on Louis’ shoulders goes slack and he moves a step back.

“Don’t you like me, Lou?” he asks, “ _ like _ like, in a romantic way? Because I keep getting these mixed signals from you,” he says patiently, “and then we kiss and you let me touch you, and it’s great, but you stop yourself every time, even though I know you want it too. But you never say it.”

“I like you Harry,” Louis finally says, meeting Harry’s eyes. Harry lights up at the answer, but there is still doubt in his mind so Louis continues, “the reason I haven’t gone further than kissing you is because sex means a lot to me, I don’t do it with someone I don’t trust.” A hurt look crosses Harry’s eyes and he takes a step back. “Sorry, that came out wrong!” Louis closes the gap between him and Harry, cupping his chin and giving him a peck. “I need to know that this relationship is going somewhere, and that you feel the same as I do, because I trust you more than I have trusted anyone,” and Louis doesn’t even know why he’s already confessing his love for Harry when just days ago he resolved not to. He just knows he wants to wipe that hurt look off Harry’s face. “I just need to make sure we’re on the same page.”

“We are, Lou,” his hands slide around to the small of Louis’ back, his hands almost covering the entire length of it. “And I’m not just saying it to get in your pants, mind,” Louis laughs. “I want this to work, it feels like I’ve always known you and that you’ll always be part of my life, a big part of my life. I feel like it’s more, we’re meant to be more.”

Louis is not sure what to say, he’s overly happy that Harry feels the same way, but also a part of him hates himself for even doubting the way Harry feels and not just asking him straight up. He’s sure he’s had valid reasons, but now he can’t think of anything other than Harry’s lips; pink, and soft, and in front of him.

He rushes his head forward and kisses him, kisses him like Harry’s been to war, like he missed him so much even though they were together practically everyday. Harry opens up to him, swiping his tongue across his upper lip and shuddering when Louis moans into his mouth.

Harry’s grip tightens, and Louis pushes him up against the other wall, his hands slipping under the hem of the shirt and roaming around Harry’s front. One of his hands tried to slip to Harry’s back but hits the wall so instead he pulls on the shirt and the boy in front of him moves his hips forward and Louis slides his hand behind Harry’s back, pressing their bodies much closer.

A soft sound fills the hallway when Louis’ fingers tease Harry’s waistband, inserting one digit in his boxers and tickling the spot just above his arse. It’s the first time Louis is the one to speed things up, or tease, and it must be doing things to Harry because Louis can feel a hard line pressing against his thigh.

Harry starts kissing his shoulder, pulling on his sleeve to expose more skin. The kisses lead up to behind his ear where he licks a stripe that tickles, then he whispers, “touch’a, touch’a, touch me, I wanna be dirty.”

Louis pulls away, his hands remain on Harry’s waist. He’s laughing with his shoulders shaking and Harry laughs with him. “You should know when to stop doing that!” he says. “Know your audience.”

“I do know my audience,” he cups Louis’ arse and slots their crotches together, lifting Louis a little so their cocks line up. Louis hitches his breath at the contact. He stops laughing, but is still smiling. “And by the  _ feel _ of it, he likes it,” Harry wiggles his brows suggestively.

“I like you,” Louis replies, “A lot,” he adds, feeling a little cheeky so he winks.

Harry simpers and moves his hands lower to the back of Louis’ thigh, hiking it up so Louis’ wrapped around him. Louis hooks his chin over Harry’s shoulder and digs his fingers in the pressure points of his back. Harry moves forward in a hurry, his feet light on the wooden floor.

They carefully make their way to Louis’ bedroom where Harry goes straight to the foot of the bed, not bothering with the lights. The curtains over the double-casement are white and flimsy enough to let the glow of the moonlight in.

Harry puts Louis on the bed and he half lies down with his arms supporting him, and his toes still touching the floor. He misses the heat that Harry provided but he is standing up in front of Louis, slowly, and teasingly removing his shirt.

He is beautiful, he tosses the shirt over his shoulders and shakes his hair out. Louis is treated to the most wonderful view in the world. Harry’s eyes are bright and inviting, his shoulders broad and poised, his body toned, and his biceps defined by the embers of light that hit him perfectly, his tattoos perfectly vivid.

They lock eyes and Harry starts moving, placing a hand over Louis’ waistband and kissing him. Louis immediately opens up upon contact and bites Harry’s lower lip, to which he grunts and presses himself harder, making the kiss bruising in the best kind of way.

His elbows buckle, hands immediately reaching for whatever part of Harry he can grab. A soft purr vibrates through his mouth when his grip tightened. Harry slowly circles his hips over him and there’s another rush of blood to his cock. He revels in the friction, and flips them over.

Louis is now on top and he positions himself to straddle Harry. He does a few cursory rolls of his hips and works his thighs so he’s slightly hovering over the very obvious erection Harry has and teasing it with his bum. “Wanna be on top?” Harry asks, annoyingly copying Tyra Banks’ accent.

Louis drops down and rolls his eyes. He is responded to by a sheepish mewl from Harry, who places his hands over his thighs and strokes the denim. Louis thinks that it’s a waste that they’re still dressed from the waist down, a shame really. “I wanna taste you,” he answers and the goofy expression on Harry’s face drops, “then I wanna be in you,” he starts grinding his hips slowly, feeling a chill run up his own spine at the words. “Then, I’m gonna fuck you, hard and slow, until you’re desperate for it,” he looks at Harry, stunned under him. He continues moving his hips forward and back, arching his own body at the sensation, and closing his eyes. “Do you want that?” he asks.

“Feeling confident, aren’t we?” Harry observes.

Louis quirks his lips and kisses him back down to the bed and moves his hands to where Harry’s is. He interlaces their fingers together, and slowly guides them over Harry’s head. He pulls back and sings, “What’s wrong with being confident?” Before Harry can reply, Louis moves forward kissing him deeply and swiping his tongue over his and tasting beer.

Louis moves to his neck, lapping up Harry’s adam’s apple. “You’re the boss right now,” Harry says as if continuing the song.

He releases Harry’s hands. “No touching,” he says. Harry just nods and waits for Louis. He laps over the junction from Harry’s neck and his jaw, sucks it hard, and Harry grunts at the combination of both pain and pleasure. He kisses the reddened spot, knowing that in just a few hours a glaringly purple hickey would appear.

Louis kisses down Harry’s sternum. He could kiss Harry all day; use his mouth to cover every inch of him, press his lips on all of Harry’s muscles, and hear Harry’s sighs. Louis moves over the left side of his chest taking his nipple in his mouth and rolling it over, Harry curses making Louis know that this turns him on. So Louis keeps doing it as his hands fumble for the button in Harry’s jeans, opening it and loosening the fly. He moves to the right and does the same. Harry lifts his hips up and Louis pushes down the jeans and the boxer shorts Harry’s wearing with one hand, while the other supports his weight. Louis feels Harry’s legs jerk to get the fabric out of the way. Louis doesn’t dare stop whatever he was doing to Harry’s nipple because the boy was moaning his name and it’s like music to Louis’ ears. Louis wants to do it in the studio, just so he could record Harry saying his name in his low voice.

Louis moves towards his butterfly tattoo, the one right above his abdomen, half of the wings covering the top part of the muscles. He ghosts his lips over the sketch and moves further south until the wet head of Harry’s dick is tapping on his chin.

And  _ wow _ . Just. Okay, so Louis’ had always known Harry’s big from the countless times he’s felt him hard when they grind together. But. Okay, so you know how they say the Titanic is big, but no one really understood how big it was until it was docked and people were climbing on board. Louis feels like one of the first people to see the Titanic in all its glory. And Louis couldn’t wait to get on board this Titanic. Maybe he will.

Louis’ never met a challenge he didn’t take. His hands begin tracing over Harry’s sides as he kisses the head tentatively, pre-cum leaking. He lines up the kisses, until his lips are on the base of Harry’s cock, and it sure took a lot of kisses to get there.

Louis stands up to get the necessary materials from his nightstand and Harry purrs at the loss of contact, but doesn’t verbalize his complaint.

Louis repositions himself and sits on the floor, his face just level with the bed. He pulls hard on Harry’s ankles and settles the back of his knees over his shoulders. He places the lube and the condom beside him and starts working.

Louis licks the balls; one hand gripping Harry’s thighs, the other circling around the shaft. He moves his hand up and follows it with his tongue. Two of his fingers glaze over the slit and collects the pre-cum there and spreads it all over Harry’s dick until the whole thing was slick with his saliva and the creamy substance.

Harry is now panting, Louis could see the muscles on his stomach trembling as his breathing becomes irregular. Louis notices his own neglected cock, pressing up against the denim of his jeans, and he rethinks the no touching rule. But it doesn’t matter, as long as he sees how what he’s doing is affecting Harry.

Louis takes him in his mouth, slowly moving him inch by inch, his jaw widening as he takes in the head. He does it agonizingly slowly, and he could sense that it’s taking everything that Harry’s got not to cant his hips up.

Louis moves further down, until the head nudges his throat, and his eyes start to water. He forms a fist with one hand, tucks his thumb and squeezes it so as not to gag, he’s read that somewhere. He grips tightly and tries to take more of Harry, but he’s just so big that he can’t, so instead, he uses his other hand to cover the rest of the length.

Louis bobs his head up and down, hollowing his cheeks, and making sloppy noises. Harry is still grunting when he pops off the head. Harry’s dick squirts, and Louis licks over the slit. He transfers to the perineum and licks it up to the head and then grabs the lube. He coats his middle finger liberally, as he moves to kneel. Harry’s legs are still on his shoulders, but the angle is better for what Louis is about to do. He spreads the cheeks apart and traces the crack with his finger. He drizzles lube over the perineum, and it trickles down slowly to Harry’s hole. Harry shivers and his toes curl, and from this position Louis could see that Harry’s knuckles have turned white from their grip on the sheets and Harry’s lifting his head to look at him.

Louis wants to kiss him, but instead he bites the insides of Harry’s thighs and he sobs, planting his head back down. Louis follows the path of the lube and circles the ring of muscles at the opening. He dips the first digit of his middle finger in and groans at the sweet heat he feels. Louis tightens the circle of his hands around Harry’s cock as he pushes further in, past his second knuckle. Louis crooks his finger and feels Harry relax around him until his finger is all the way in. He moves it out again as gently as he can, pumping in and out, nuzzling the insides of Harry’s thighs, his light scruff roughing it up. He fucks Harry with his finger, increasing the speed.

A soft “Lou,” pulls him out of his reverie, “please,” Harry coos.

Louis adds more lube and introduces a second finger, scissoring his way until he’s able to work in a third. He pours more lube, coating all his fingers again, making the glide in and out easy and smooth and enough for Harry to move his arse down.

Harry lifts his head again, his hands pulling at his curls for lack of anything else to do. Louis could feel his desperation. “No touching,” Louis reprimands.

Harry let goes, but gives Louis a pleading look. “I want you inside me now,” he purrs.

And yes, Louis wants that too. He takes the lube and the condom and places it on the bed, kissing his way up to Harry. He grips Harry’s hips and presses the hard line of his body to his. He’s suddenly aware that Harry’s hands remain perched on top of his head. “You can touch me,” Louis says.

Harry wastes no time in undoing Louis’ jeans and sitting up so he can push it off. Louis is now kneeling on the bed which is a sweet relief from being on the floor for so long. Harry clutches both of his hands and holds it behind Louis’ back. He trails kisses down Louis’ chest to the end of his sternum and licks the sparse hair that leads to his cock; Harry slowly moving back so he could bend down.

Harry’s teeth grazes the bottom of Louis’ abdomen and catches on the waistband of his boxers. Harry clamps on using his mouth and pulls it forward and down, exposing the head of Louis’ dick resting on his right hipbone. Harry blows over it and lightning strikes Louis. Harry can’t quite remove it with just his lips, the swell of Louis’ bum prevents him. Louis couldn’t be of help either, since both of his hands are in Harry’s. Harry circles one of Louis’ wrists with his thumb and forefinger and pins the other one with the three others. “Nice bum, dainty wrists,” Harry says, looking straight into Louis, grinning like he wasn’t just as desperate for Louis’ cock a few seconds ago.

“Beautiful arse, wonderful really, should be insured, should be written songs about,” Louis corrects, his voice shaky from arousal.

Harry pulls Louis’ boxers down and kisses the head of his dick, and that shut him up. The feel of Harry’s lips on his cock is a whole other thing. His lips are the same color as the head, and Harry runs his thumb over the slit and lifting it and sucking, making a satisfied noise. He licks off the slit, and it feels so good. Harry kisses it and opens his mouth to take Louis in, expertly covering his teeth with his lips and takes Louis fast, in contrast to how he started a while back.

Harry sucks in his cheeks, and oh, Louis’ hips jerk uncontrollably. Louis tries to gather himself, stopping his movement whispering, “sorry,” to Harry.

Harry just lifts his brows and continues to cover his cock with his mouth. Louis could feel his hot mouth all over him with his tongue swirling. He is completely engulfed in the wetness of Harry’s mouth. Harry moves faster and faster, and Louis just grunts, relishing the tightness of Harry’s mouth around him, and the fact that his lips are starting to swell, and the head is passing the back of his throat. Harry just goes and goes, until his nose is hitting Louis’ abdomen.

He could feel his orgasm building like a pot of maple syrup pooling at the pit of his stomach. “Haz, I’m close,” he says, knees starting to go weak.

Harry pulls from his cock, “Come inside me,” he requests, “I wanna see your face as you do.”

Fuck. Louis does to.

Louis cups his chin and brings him in for a sweet kiss. “I trust you,” he says.

“I love you,” Harry replies. A different kind of electricity bolts through his body, and he kisses him again, crushing their lips together, but he couldn’t help but smile at the words.

“I love you too.”

Harry lies back down on the bed, Louis settling between his legs, but they never stop kissing. Harry spreads his knees apart, allowing Louis access to him, trusting him as well.

He lines up Harry’s hole, dipping his fingers one last time to make sure he’s ready. “I can take it,” Harry says. “Fuck me, now,” he growls.

Louis lines himself up, teasing Harry with the head of his cock rubbing over his hole. Harry makes an incoherent noise, his dick pulsing against his own stomach. He makes a quick grab of the condom and rolls it over his prick. He slicks himself up with the lube, generously covering himself with it.

He watches the head of his cock stretch out the hole and marvels at the sight. The sweet heat of Harry that engulfs him makes everything around him more vivid. Harry’s tattoos look darker, and so does his eyes, pooling with lust and affection. He moves an inch inside Harry and the boy whimpers. He knows the stretching burns, but with it comes gratification.

He bites his lip to keep from screaming, keeping his pace steady until he bottoms out. He stays still for a while, letting Harry get used to his length. Harry starts to move his hips, so Louis follows suit. He slowly withdraws until he’s almost all the way out before moving back in.

Harry looks distressed, not allowed to touch himself, so he grips Louis’ arm tight, in a way that would leave a bruise.

Louis moves in a secure fashion, stroking his hand over Harry’s calves. He moves in, and leisurely moves out.

Harry howls in frustration, “You said you’d fuck me hard, Lou.”

Louis slams back into him, and in that swift move he knows he nailed Harry’s prostate because the boy screams wordlessly. He does it again and again, afraid to change the angle as he might miss it.

Harry’s tightness was too much for him, the maple syrup built up inside him threatening to spill.

Harry chants out a string of Lou’s every time his prostate is hit. “I’m close, Lou,” he says.

Louis sees Harry’s forehead glistening with sweat, and he feels that he too is sweating, and it’s hot all over. “Come for me,” he says, “together.”

He fucks him in earnest, lurching his hips faster, chasing his own orgasm and frantically awaiting his release. He doesn’t stop the noises coming from his mouth as Harry arches off the bed.

A few more thrusts and he’s spilling while inside Harry, and he bends forward, his body on top of Harry’s. Harry grips his back as he continues to move inside him, and he feels hot cum spurting from Harry and landing in both of their bodies.

They hold each other while they come back down from the high, heads fuzzy and feeling a little dazed.

They grin at each other and Louis presses his lips to Harry’s, slowly pulling out of him. He discards of the used condom and grabs a towel to clean them both up.

They shower together but are too tired to do anything else other than dot lazy kisses and say “I love you” like lovesick idiots all over each other.

_ See what communication does?  _ Louis thinks. He should have told Harry how he felt, but he doesn’t regret it. Can’t regret it now that he has Harry, and they’ve said, “I love you.” Louis can’t wait to wear the words out. Now he thinks in lyrics as well. Stupid Harry. Stupid Harry whom he loves. Stupid Harry whom he loves, and who loves him.

  
  



	5. Teach the World to Move to Your Sound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from [It's Showtime](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZIy5MlqKOjA)

 

It’s a Friday, and Harry has been spending all of his time at Louis’ ever since that night. Louis pulls up the duvet as he watches his boyfriend – yes, they’ve agreed on calling each other boyfriend – get dressed. The clock on the nightstand reads half six in the morning, and the dark clouds outside suggest that it’s going to be raining.

“Why don’t you just bring spare clothes here so you won’t have to go back to your building before work?” Louis asks, covering himself with the blanket and hugging his knees. He feels cold without the warmth of Harry’s back pressed up against his chest.

Harry zips his fly and looks at Louis intently, putting one knee on the foot of the bed and bending forward to pull on Louis’ ankle. “Don’t you think that would be presumptuous of me to think that I’d be spending the night?” he tugs on his ankles so Louis’ legs are stretched, he moves forward, face hovering over him.

Louis smiles, tilting his head to give Harry a kiss. “It wouldn’t be. It doesn’t hurt to be prepared.” He cards his hands through Harry’s hair and pulls him closer, “Plus, we could sleep some more if you didn’t have to go so early,” he kisses him softly, lips like feather landing on Harry’s.

Harry deepens the kiss and pushes Louis’ head to the headboard, tongue darting out to swipe over the roof of his mouth. “But, alas, you have to work,” he says, mock disappointed, “and I’ll have to spend the morning alone, thinking of ways to make me warm.” Louis looks to his side, trying his best to look dramatic, withdrawing his hands from around Harry and relaxing them to his side.

Harry plants a kiss on Louis forehead and stands back up to wear his shoes. “Well, good luck with that,” he says, lacing up his loafers. “I’ll see you later, Lou,” he continues, unaffected by everything Louis said even though Louis was trying his best to be seductive. Has it really been that long?Has he lost his sexiness already?

Harry makes his way out of the bedroom, and Louis pulls the blanket off of him and runs after his boyfriend in the hallway. “Don’t try to resist me,” he sings out.

Harry turns around and Louis pulls on his collar and kisses him, hard, his hold unyielding. Harry puts a hand on his back, and Louis preens at the warmth it provides, realizing that he’s in his birthday suit. The hands move down and Harry hums in his mouth, sending vibrations down Louis’ spine.

Harry cups his arse cheeks and squeezes, kneads the flesh there for a while, and Louis groans. Louis breaks the kiss and smoothes the fabric over Harry’s chest. Harry looks dazed, his eyes a little glassy. “Have fun at work. I love you,” he says, pushing Harry towards the door.

He goes out the door and waves at Louis, still speechless. Louis’ happy with himself when he presses the button to close the gates. He looks down and frowns, realizing that now he’s sporting a semi and Harry’s not there to take care of it.

 

…oOo…

 

Harry spends the whole day in the office trying to get a lot of projects done before the live shows begin. It will be hard for him to go to work once practice for group and individual performances start and they’ll be complying with the mandatory stage time.

While he’s away, Louis makes himself busy by doing research and coming up with publicity schemes to boost Harry’s popularity. They’ve followed each other on social media and posted things implying they were together.

After the second episode aired, there is a constant stream on his mentions of fans asking whether or not he is dating Harry. There’s a part of Louis – a huge part – that wants to say yes, but the more logical part of his brain says to talk to it with Harry. He thinks that they need to discuss the implications of going public, how it would affect their careers, and how it would impact on their relationship.

He goes to the attic with his two Moleskins, writing lyrics in one and taking down strategies on the other. He splays out on the mattress with his computer on hand searching for vocal exercises he makes Harry do. He always ends up making him do what he does on tour though because there’s nothing on the internet he hasn’t tried before.

He also records new demos for song he’s written, sometimes asking Liam and Julian to come and help him with the production. He has enough new songs to release for his own album, he’s just waiting for his contract with the management and the label to end. He’s already delivered the four albums required by the label, but since he did not do a tour for the last one, they kept his name on their website to attract other artists to sign with them. Louis hopes it doesn’t work. The combination of his management and label is bad, they overwork artists and give them ridiculous narratives to sell.

Running his own label would be nice, and the idea crossed his mind a lot of times already. He has the capital and he’s knowledgeable of the ropes of the business, but it may be hard to find artists willing to bet on him. He must admit that being in the Next Big Star is good practice in learning how to care for a client.

He learns that the artists creativity should not be suppressed. He understands that there might be limits to this to appeal to a certain audience, but in the end it is still the expression of art that matters. Some artists do not care about audiences. There needs to be balance between this expression and business. Artists are not machines that depreciate, and you can’t expect constant profit from them or else they’ll be tired of what they’re doing.

If his management treated him like a person instead of an asset, maybe he’d still be touring right now. He loved that part; singing to his fans, reading the signs they hold up, marveling at their unity every time they execute fan projects. He just needs to rest.

Today, he does the recording alone. As he sings the last note and presses the button to stop recording, he can’t help but feel excited for his next tour. He knows his fans would love the new music he would be putting out and it might even attract new audiences.

 

…oOo…

 

The contestants are scheduled to go to a workshop every morning from Monday to Friday where they’d practice for the group performance. During Saturdays, each one of them is given an hour and a half stage time to see how they’d move on stage.

It’s Monday morning, the first day of practice for Harry. Louis comes with Harry because he’s his coach and mostly because he doesn’t want to miss seeing him dance.

He’s in the kitchen having a bowl of mixed cereals as he waits for Harry to get dressed.

In a few minutes he shows up dressed in sweats, a white t-shirt, and trainers. And he looks gorgeous. What even is he?

Harry comes up behind him and wraps his arm around Louis as he presses a kiss on his head. “Good morning,” he says.

Louis snakes a hand on his back and pats it. “Have some breakfast, love.”

He complies and gets a bowl from the cupboard to eat beside Louis on the counter. They eat in companionable silence, before Louis drives them to the studio.

“Do you already have a charity in mind?” Harry asks from the passenger seat while they wait for the traffic light to turn green.

He turns his head to Harry and smirks, the other boy looking back at him with expectant eyes. “Pretty confident we’ll win, aren’t we?” his grin grows wider.

The light turns green and Louis steps on the gas to move forward, making a left turn a few yards later. “Just asking,” he sees him shrug from his periphery.

“I was thinking of Eden Dora,” Louis starts, “but, I’m thinking of going with unpopular charities because they have a harder time with getting sponsors. Like, I’m pretty sure Eden Dora has a stable flow of donations already.”

Louis is actually thinking of donating to Wilmington, but wants to surprise Harry. He knows how important that place is to him. Kids have always been close to Louis’ heart as well, so knowing he’d be able to help the wee ones is also a reason.

He doesn’t say it yet of course, and Harry stares out the window while softly singing along with the radio.

They pull up in the network studio and Louis parks the car around the back. It’s the first day for rehearsals so the contestants are to go to one of the dance studios in the basement. Louis knew the goings around quite well, since it’s also where they had practice before. He loved practicing for group performances, having fun with the other contestants and just messing about. He hopes Harry would have the same experience.

He leads Harry to studio 23. All the other contestants are there; they’ve only made it with five minutes to spare. The vocal coach and the choreographer aren’t there yet and the only other coach he sees is Ed who was seated on the corner with his bet, Troye.

The room is about ten feet high and three of its four walls are covered in full length mirrors. The floor is made of polished wood and Louis hopes no one slips when they dance.

Harry and Louis make the rounds first, greeting all the other contestants with hugs. Perrie, a girl with piercing blue eyes and an enormous voice, shows Jade a dance move. Calum is playing his guitar in another corner with Nicole singing.

They make their way to Ed and Troye and they also hug. “What’s up?” Ed lifts his fist for Louis to bump.

“Are we the only coaches here?” Louis asks, looking around and sitting next to Ed on the floor with Harry following him.

“Looks like it,” Ed answers.

“Talked to the girls,” Troye pipes in, seemingly intimidated by addressing another coach directly.

“What did you find out?” Louis asks conspiratorially, smiling at him to encourage him.

Troye smiles sheepishly. “He won’t bite,” Harry says.

“They said their coaches are only with them if it’s mandatory, otherwise they deal with the assistants.” He shrugs, “Don’t really have a bond.”

“Yeah, not like the bond we have, huh?” Ed asks him and gives him a noogie, reminiscent of how Louis did it to Liam during primary school. Troye swats his hands away.

Louis and Harry share a meaningful look, and maybe their bodies angle closer to each other, but they’re the only ones who notice.

The vocal coach arrives just then, clapping her hands as she enters the room. “All contestants line up,” she says, pointing to a spot in the middle of the room. They all fall side-by-side, Ed and Louis staying where they were to observe. She pulls her laptop out of the messenger bag she’s carrying and sits on the floor. “I’m Tony,” she says, her tone businesslike and her gaze focused on the screen of her computer. “Don’t bother with introducing yourselves, I know your names,” she adds, “and just so we’re clear, I’m only here to teach you the arrangements for the group performances.”

Ed looks at Louis with creases forming in his head, mirroring the confusion on Louis’ face. “I don’t remember my vocal trainer being that cold,” Louis whispers.

Ed shrugs and listens in on Tony’s instructions. It’s weird because Louis loved his vocal trainer, Luke; he always added more enjoyment every time they practiced. It did not feel like such a chore back then, and it elicited better results since the contestants would mesh well together.

Tony plays the part that each of them would sing, including the harmonies. It took them a little over an hour to do a performance she’s happy with. Louis, on the other hand, is not happy with the way things are dealt with. It sounds like they were being pitted against each other, which they are in the contest, but group performances should be about showcasing your ability to work well with a group; lifting the whole thing up instead of casting the spotlight upon yourself.

Louis think it might be part of the producer’s plan, because it would surely spark rivalry that gains audiences. He’s just made a mental note to tell Harry about this, and how he could improve.

 

…oOo…

 

Sunday rolls around, and Louis could not be more nervous for Harry. Louis is already on the coach’s panel in a stage in the middle of the crowd. Harry is all the way in the holding room, probably tinkering with his guitar with his nimble fingers adjusting the strings just so he’d have something to do.

Louis knows Harry would be edgy before a performance if he doesn’t have anyone to talk to or is being idle. He will be calmer once he’s on stage though, he’s always in his element when he’s performing. He can’t count the number of times Harry would just get lost in his music during the times they record in the studio.

Olly and Jack walk to the stage to the cheers of the people around, the lights in the audience grow dimmer and focus is on the stage. Someone from up front counts down and the volume of the applause becomes louder as the hosts open up the show.

A camera trails Olly and Jack on stage as they banter for a bit before explaining the rules. Instead of a contestant being eliminated every episode, each of them would be performing in the live shows and all text votes and social media votes would be accumulated until the finale. There would be four live shows, including the one at hand. The votes could be tracked online via the show’s website but would be sealed the week leading up to the last show where the winners would be revealed.

This is totally unprecedented. Having eliminations totally hypes audiences, but on the other hand, making sure that all the artists would stay until the end makes sure that no part of the followers of the show is alienated. That’s a good tactic, Louis thought when he read the rules earlier.

A black metal bar supporting a camera is lowered from the ceiling to pan out on the coaches, and Louis realizes that they are being introduced one by one. They start with Ed, Cheryl, Robbie, and Adele who all gave curt nods to the camera. Louis decides to give a cheeky wink to the laughter of the live audiences. Sam, seated on his right, also does a little salute.

The contestants would each sing individually before the group performance, and they drew lots earlier to determine their order. First up is Jade. She walks on the stage from the left with the microphone firm in her grasp. She is wearing a floral dress and her curls bounce up to her waist. Her face is schooled to a smile when the opening chords of Paradise begins to play. She has a lovely voice, and Louis could see that she was itching to sway her body on stage but she doesn’t. Probably because someone from Cheryl’s team told her not to, and Louis gets kind of annoyed at the thought. Artists should be free to move on stage. By the end, Louis brings his hands together and claps for her, and everyone in the audience follows.

The next performer is Calum, who, like Harry, plays the guitar on stage. He walks in carrying his guitar, and strums the notes for Fix You. He’s also a great singer, obviously, since Robbie actually held auditions for his contestant. His voice is a bit whiny and emotional but it works for him.

Perrie hits the stage next and sings one of Coldplay’s latest songs. She delights the audiences with her choreography, smiling brightly once she finishes and flourishes with a bow. The frail frame of Troye is lit on stage and Louis sees Ed giving him a thumbs up. He begins to sing Ink, and boy did he have the voice for it. His voice had that airy quality the Chris Martin has, but his is a little rougher around the edges which Louis thinks fits the song better. The audience roars with applause when he finishes, and Ed gives him a standing ovation.

Next to perform is Harry. Louis thinks it’s going to be hard to follow Troye because of the crowd’s reaction but he has faith in Harry. He knows he could charm the pants off the audience with his dimples.

This is it. The lights on stage grows dark, and Louis could see the silhouette of Harry and his guitar like a shadow moving to the center of the stage. He sees Harry looking directly at him, and goodness, he doesn’t even need the spotlight to shine.

He sits on the stool and plucks the strings, a single ray of light turns on to illuminate his face. He’s smiling as he waits to sing the first note. Louis’ heart stops at the sight. Harry lips form a pout and Louis comprehends he’s singing. “Look at the stars,” he sings. Something warm and gooey, suspiciously like honey, fills Louis in his insides. He’s finally sharing Harry with the world. Not that he owns him, of course he doesn’t. It’s just that the world is finally experiencing what it feels like to be sung to by Harry Styles. And maybe the whole world would stop and stare for a while.  _ Dammit Harry _ . He’s just so so proud of him, and his cheeks are hurting because he can’t contain the fond he’s feeling. It’s mostly pride, a little because he gets to call him his boyfriend, but more so because Harry is an amazing performer.

It’s like it did not matter that he’s singing to a bigger audience than the bar, he’s still the charming and enigmatic Harry. The one who’s just sitting on the stool, but is overflowing with confidence. You could clearly see it from the sure set of his shoulders as his fingers dance on the frets of the guitar to the hint of smirk on his face. He follows the lens of the camera from time to time and his face is projected onto the screens and Louis has to stop himself from swooning at his sexy sexy eyes. He’s a professional, you know.

Louis hopes that the audience is as captivated by Harry as he is. He’s just really so far gone for him. He loves him and wants the best for him.

He thinks that’s what makes the best labels and managers, actual care for their artists. They don’t have to be in love with them, they just need to care for them. Sure the bottom line would still be profit, but it would be based on humane treatment of the artists.

Harry’s set ends, and Louis claps hard since he can’t whistle for him. The people around him do too. With a grin, Harry exits the stage and Louis notices that the stage grew darker without the curly-haired boy on it.

Nicole performs last and sings Green Eyes, and Louis just goes on and thinks of a pair of green eyes as the wonderful harmony fills his ears. He’s taken out of his reverie by the audience’ applause.

They take a short break before the group performance, and he uses that time to send Harry a text.

_ L: You were great. As always. _

_ H: I’m sexy and I know it. _

Louis rolls his eyes as if Harry can see him. He should really stop doing that, it’s not like he doesn’t secretly love it when Harry uses lyrics to express himself.

_ H: Thanks, tho. See you in a bit! xo _

He strikes up a conversation with Adele, who seems less intimidating ever since that Carpool Karaoke with James Corden. She is friendly, and not at all diva-ish as he expected. She’s curious about his relationship with Harry, but Louis tries to steer the conversation into their professional relationship instead of personal. He and Harry decided not to tell anyone involved in the show about it first, with the exception of their friends of course. He also does not want to lie, so it’s better if he avoids being asked the question instead of answering.

The break is soon over, and colorful lights hit the stage. A cello begins to play the first notes for Viva La Vida and the contestants enter the stage from a secret opening. They’re all being lifted from below the stage, popping out from the surface. Harry has the first verse and as he sings, they all move forward.

The other singers enter in with the harmonies until it’s time for their solo. Subjectively, Harry steals the show just like he stole Louis’ heart. Objectively, they all sound great individually, but there’s a lack of cohesiveness. One of them goes off key with the harmonies and Louis sees Troye listening intently and adjusting his tone to compliment it. Good kid that.

In the end, the slip up barely registers and they end on a high note. They bow collectively and wave to the audiences. Olly and Jack join them on stage with reminders on how their supporters could cast their votes and how to check their status.

 

…oOo...

 

The coaches all slip to the backstage after the show ended. Louis scans the room for Harry, all around him people were milling about doing things. He sees Jade being pulled on the side by Cheryl with a stern look on her face and giving notes in a hushed voice. Troye is hugged by Ed, and the other teams show varying levels of amicability.

He finally spots Harry’s head of curls in the corner. His back is turned to Louis, a hand rests on his hip while the other one is holding a phone up to his ears. His right leg is locked straight and the other is bended on the knee making his hips slope towards the right just a tad. Louis marvels at the view; Harry’s endless lines all covered in dark fitted cloth, the top almost see through.

He takes steps to be closer to him, placing one foot in front of the other. When he’s close enough, he places a hand on Harry’s back. Harry turns upon contact and smiles on Louis while still talking on the phone. “Thanks, mum,” he says, “but you have to say that, I’m your son.” He gives Louis a pointed look.

Louis wrinkles his nose. Whatever Harry’s mum said, he definitely agrees.

“Yes, mum, I love you too,” he pauses but quickly adds, “oh, Louis’ here, if you wanna talk.”

Panic rises in his throat. What the fuck is he supposed to say to Harry’s mum? And Harry makes it sound as if they talk about it all the damn time. Shit. He hasn’t even told his mom yet. Parents don’t generally like Louis. Or at least they didn’t back then, because he was a trouble maker. God, he’s forgotten how to meet parents.

Harry is now extending the phone to him.

Oh God, oh shit, oh shit. What fresh bloody hell is this?

His terror might not register in his face because Harry just nods for him to accept the phone.

What could possibly go wrong in a phone call right?

“Good evening, Mrs. Twist,” he says as soon as the phone is attached to his ear. He might be gripping the phone a little too tightly wishing his secret super strength would manifest and he’d be able to crush the phone to bits and not endure the conversation.

“Hello, Louis,” she says in a clipped voice. “What did you think of Harry’s performance tonight?” she asks.

Louis smiles because at least he knows how to answer that one. “He’s brilliant! Captivated the audience, hit the right notes, and he looked like a proper star on the screen.” Harry grins up at him because of his comment. “And that’s just objectively speaking,” he continues.

He hears her chuckle. “How about subjectively?” she asks.

“All those, but heightened,” he quips. He’s surely not going to tell his boyfriend’s mother what he wants to do with said boyfriend because of that performance.

“Hmm,” a pregnant pause, and Louis doesn’t know what to say. “I’ll be there next weekend to watch the live show. I’m hoping we’ll meet each other?”

“Yes, sure! You could even come with us for stage time if you’re free,” Louis offers despite of the anxiety building up in his bones. God, he didn’t even ask Harry if he wants them to meet. His face lights up at the comment though, so he guesses it’s okay.

 

…oOo…

 

They stay up late in the night working off Harry’s post-performance adrenaline. Louis is very familiar with feeling like he could do anything in the world, and he also misses it. It’s not so bad now because he gets to help Harry with it; jerking him off on the kitchen counter while kissing hungrily and filthy sounds fill the room.

Harry returns the favor by putting his mouth on Louis; sucking him off until he cries.

After they clean up, they laze around in the attic. They lie on the mattress side-by-side watching the stars’ twinkle. It is one of those rare occasions where their brightness isn’t overshadowed by any clouds or the light pollution from the city.

“I want to run my own record label,” Louis says.

“You definitely should.”

“I don’t know where to start though, and even if I did, it’s not like anyone would sign with me.” He pulls the blanket over them and turns to his side to wrap a hand around Harry.

“Of course they will, and you don’t have to start big right away. You could sign indies, which is how most great musicians start as.” Harry runs his fingers through his arms, stroking soothingly. The points where his nails drag are soothed by the pad of his fingers drawing back. “Assuming you’re doing this because you think artists deserve better, there’d be plenty of other artists who think the same and would probably be willing to help.”

There goes Harry totally reading his mind again. Knowing his reasons before even saying out loud.

_ I love you _ , he thinks, testing if Harry could actually read his thoughts. He stretches his neck a little and gives Harry a kiss on the cheek before closing his eyes.

“I love you too,” Harry says.


	6. That Nothing's Ever Out of Reach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from [Dream](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bSQ-m4rNgpA)

 

Even with constant reassurance from Harry that he’d be fine, Louis still feels like a parent sending his kid to school alone for the first time. A lot like the time he and his mum sent the twins to primary school and when he came to pick them up, Daisy was too cool to hold Louis’ hand. It’s a good thing though that Harry would never be too cool to hold his hand.

For the upcoming week, Louis is not accompanying Harry to the group rehearsals. He’s keen on getting started with the record label and is eager to talk to people who could help. Harry is supportive – of course he is – telling him that he’s not needed in group rehearsals anyway, and that way he won’t be too distracted.

Louis is somehow regretting it though, because this week they’re doing Spice Girls. The dance would be much more complicated and he was looking forward to seeing Harry gracefully stumble across the studio with gangly limbs. Now, he has to wait for the actual live show to see it. And Anne will be there too, but he pushes that thought to the side.

Harry would be in the studio in the morning, and he needs to drop by the office after lunch just to settle some of his projects and talk to some clients. It’ll be a busy day for Louis as well, he’s on his way to James to ask about his idea for a record label.

James is a family friend who owns Corden Group. It’s a group of companies that delve into different aspects of the media, they have a newspaper; the Spectator, a branch that manages artists, and they have other functions Louis’ is not sure of. He just knows and trusts James. Once his contract with Modest ends, he’s going to sign with Corden as his management. If he did not join the X Factor, he would have signed with them, but winning the contest and signing with Modest and Syco is a package deal, so.

He drives for twenty minutes to central London and maneuvers his way to a tight parking spot near the tall building where he has an appointment with James. He locks the car and heads inside.

The receptionists all smile at him as he walks to the counter. “Hello, Mr. Tomlinson,” one of them greets. They were all wearing black blazers over white button downs. Everything about the building is sleek and professional, from the marble floors to the glass that line up the walls.

He smiles at them. “I have an appointment with James Corden,” he says smoothly.

“Let me check, sir, just a moment,” she says, tapping away on her keyboard and looking at the screen. Louis waits patiently, trying to see what the screen says but to no avail. She smiles up at him, “He’s in his office, which is on the 31 st floor,” she says, pointing to the corridor that leads to the lifts.

“Thanks,” Louis mumbles, turning around and walking to the lifts.

He presses the up button to summon the elevator. A ding sounds and the lift in front of him opens. He walks inside and presses the button for the 31 st floor.

The ride on the way up is longer than he expected, people keep going in from different floors and going down on another. It feels like the elevator took a stop in every floor possible.

He fixes his collar, checking his reflection inside the lift before stepping off. Sure, James has seen him in his nappies, but it wouldn’t hurt to look professional, especially since this is supposed to be a business meeting, albeit a bit informal.

He finds the office easily enough, and he signs with Jackie, the secretary, before entering. “Good morning, James,” he says as he takes a step inside.

James turns around from he was standing in front of his shelf of vinyl records. “Louis!” he greets, opening his arms for a hug. Louis goes into the hug and wraps his arms around the man’s meaty middle. James hugs him tightly and lifts him a little. “It’s been so long!” he says.

“James, we saw each other on mum’s birthday,” which was like seven months ago.

“That’s too long, Louis,” James says, finally letting go of Louis, and motions for him to sit on the chair in front of his office table as he rounds the corner to sit on the executive chair.

The office still looks the same. Glass windows on two sides of the room, one side is lined with shelves of vinyl, and smoked glass separates the office from the whole floor. “What can I do for you?”

This is James, the closest to a father he’s ever had. Sure there was Mark once upon a time, but he left. Dan, though he makes his mum happy, is not that close to Louis considering the fact that they met just before he moved out. He feels a little shy though, as if what he will be proposing is a long shot, but it’s James, he’d understand. “I was wondering if you could help me with an idea I have,” he starts and James nods. “I’m thinking of running my own record label.”

“I think that’s a marvelous idea,” James replies, clapping his hands together. “What seems to be the problem?”

“Well, I don’t know where to start. Like, the business side and stuff,” he says.

“I could help you with that,” James says, “I’m planning on expanding Corden Group,” he purses his lips, and Louis hopes he’s saying what he thinks he’s saying, “I want to start a label too and if you want, we could work together.”

“That would be great,” Louis says.

Louis could bank on James’ experience with the business matters, and the name of the company in enticing new artists to sign with him. What he could offer on the other hand, is his knowledge in recording and how to treat artists. James isn’t the kind who would take advantage of budding artists, but would instead go out of his way to actually give them a good deal, which is why Louis came to him in the first place.

They discuss their ideas, and he tells James of his motivations and goals in starting up the company. They talk about what each of them would be responsible for and if it really is possible. James will have his people conduct feasibility studies, and they’d see where it’d go.

They end the meeting with a hug before Louis goes back to his home.

He feels really happy and excited about the prospect of having his own record label. He’s seen how James works with the media, and how the company is as a media outlet. It’s exactly what he is looking for. He feels chills in his bones knowing that when they start all this, there would be an actual label who cares for their artists and it makes him want to just go and record and tour again.

 

…oOo…

 

They’ve been running around Louis’ backyard for thirty minutes, Harry still singing a faster song. Louis’ read this article that doing so would increase his lung capacity, which is good for Harry.

After his meeting with James, Harry called him up and Louis immediately detected a hint of disappointment in his voice. He told him that the choreography for the song is brutal and by the time for his solo, he’s out of breath and couldn’t sing it well.

Louis’ used to this though, having to sing songs on a stage that had a twenty-meter platform and is at least thirty meters wide. He’s used to running around that stage to keep all his audiences engaged with him.

The sky is grey with thick clouds looming over them ready to rain. Louis’ backyard is lush with green grass carefully maintained by his gardener. The hedges were trimmed to perfection, perfect angles along the margin of the garden.

They pass the lounge set in the corner. It was made of brown wicker with blue cushions covered in thick cloth, Louis is not sure what it is called, but it protects it from bad weather and other stuff.

Harry still belts out the song from beside him, and he grins as he takes faster strides challenging the other to keep up with him. Louis forgot how good it felt to just run and sing for the heck of it so he joins in the singing. Their voices sound good together; his was higher and raspy whereas Harry’s was low and velvety. Together they sound amazing, like two puzzles fitting. Louis thinks Harry’s singing voice may be the second best sound he’s ever heard. Next to the sounds he makes when he’s falling apart at Louis’ touch.

Suddenly, lightning strikes and after it comes the roar of thunder, and the dark clouds above them started pouring heavy rain. He runs to his back porch waiting for Harry to follow him, the other boy does not though. Instead, he removes his hair tie and lets himself get drenched by the water. “What are you doing, H?” Louis shouts from where he is.

“It’s raining,” the boy answers, his hair getting straighter and pelts on his face with the weight of the rain. His white shirt is sticking to his skin, and Louis can see every curve of his muscle. “You should kiss me,” Harry says, “Like Haley and Nathan,” he adds.

One Tree Hill is Louis favorite show, also the reason why he named his cat Haley. He wastes no time, removing his trainers and letting his feet get wet as he crosses the grassy place towards Harry. A squelching sound reverberates with every step, and dirt clings to his foot, but he doesn’t mind one bit. Harry is an idiot, but Louis can’t stop himself from acceding to his demands.

He throws himself – literally and figuratively – at Harry, jumping up and draping his hands over his shoulders. Harry is quick to catch him, his hands going under his thighs to support him.

He licks Harry’s lips and the other boy laughs. The rain is mercilessly getting them soaked and he feels his jumper getting heavier. He places a hand on Harry’s cheek while the other rests softly on his chest and he pulls him in for a deep kiss, well as deep as it can go with both of them giggling like teenagers.

The rain has now completely gotten their clothes soaked through, the fabric clinging on to their skin as their kiss becomes much hotter and wetter. They close their eyes, letting droplets fall over their face and shoulders and Louis moans when Harry swipes his tongue over the roof of his mouth. He tastes like berries, and cream, and honey, and sweet, and Harry.

He feels Harry begin to walk as he starts dotting kisses from his jaw to his shoulders, sucking a bruise here and there hoping the rain soothes the pain away.

Harry bends forward and Louis realizes that he’s setting Louis down on the lawn chair near the hedges. He lies down and pulls Harry with him, keeping his legs wrapped around the boy. He looks gorgeous, all his muscles seem so broad, emphasized in the places where his clothes are sticking.

Harry kisses him like it’s the only thing he’d like to do in the world, in open space, under a dark sky, with rain pouring on top of them. He kisses him back in earnest, running his thumbs where their lips are attached and then wiping away rain from their eyes.

Harry pulls away, kneeling on the edge of the chair. He gets his hair away from his face and then pulls on the hem of his shirt and sweater to remove it in one quick motion and throws it on the outdoor table. He moves back to where Louis is, his eyes matching the color of the hedges around them, dark and beautiful. His muscles were dripping wet and gorgeous, and Louis just wants to stare at him, but also to devour him.

He tickles the waistband of Louis’ sweats and lifts his shirt a little to expose his happy trail. Harry presses a kiss on the spot below his bellybutton and Louis’ breath hitches in anticipation. Harry moves the hem higher leaving in it’s wake fluttering kisses. Louis stomach rises and falls faster, not maintaining a healthy breathing rhythm. Too stubborn to stop what’s about to happen, and too thrilled to care.

One hand snakes to Louis’ thigh squeezing the muscles there while the other continues to lift his shirt. He helps Harry get rid of the shirt and Harry kisses him square on the mouth. He sucks on Harry’s lower lip and bites it the way he knows the boy would like, and Harry lets a small moan escape his lips and the vibrations from the sound send chills directly to his groin. Harry’s hands run all over his upper torso, and it is the only outside source of heat amidst the cold shower. It didn’t matter anyway, his inside is quickly filling with heat from how fast his blood is going.

Harry is moving his body on top of Louis and the smaller boy wraps his hand around his back pulling him closer to him. Their naked torsos slide together with the rain falling all over them. His ears are filled with the sounds of water hitting skin, heavy breaths and soft groans of pleasure.

He feels himself thickening up in in his pants and Harry’s thighs are providing much needed friction. Harry grinds faster on top of him, feeling the incentive. He smells the wet earth around him, and god he’d be turned on by the scent whenever it rains.

He could feel Harry’s own erection growing as he slots their hips together so their lengths match up and move to their own rhythm. He circles his hips, and it feels good. He slides his hands down to Harry’s waist, his thumb tracing over the ends of the laurels. He knows his hip is bruising but he wants to keep Harry steady or else he might come.

His vice-like grip isn’t enough to deter Harry from sliding on top of him so he just holds him. Another thunder cracks through the sky but he is too busy to notice, or to care. He just wants to be as close as possible to Harry. “I’m close,” he says and Harry immediately stops moving.

A look of confusion strikes his face and Harry grins as he stands up. “Were supposed to be working on my lung capacity, right?” Louis just nods, not sure where Harry is going with this. Did he want to go running again? Because Louis’ could not care less about increasing his lung capacity right now, and surely he doesn’t too?

Harry pulls him up so their faces are aligned. His lashes wet and long and darker because of the rain, the water not affecting how they flick up towards his lids. Louis starts kissing him again without restraint, but Harry might have other ideas because he tugs on Louis’ arm and guides him in the middle of the garden.

He sits with his legs crossed and he brings Louis to sit on his lap. Louis plants his feet on either side of him and they start kissing again. Louis rocks his hip back and forth over Harry’s dick, his crack trailing the hard line.

Harry grabs a handful of his hair with one hand, while the other squeezes his arse. He tugs on the hair and starts kissing Louis’ exposed neck, lapping up the water that drips from the side of his face. He gives him a love bite on the corner behind his ears and whispers, “I want you to fuck my face.”

Louis stops his movement, painfully aware that he was hard and maybe already leaking. The idea is so hot, but he doesn’t know if he trusts himself enough to do it. Harry lies down on the grass leaving Louis speechless while straddling him.

The boy impatiently tugs on his sweats so he removes it with all the amount of grace he could muster. Harry laughs when the curve of his cock slaps his belly, fully aware that it was his doing. “Are you sure?” he asks.

The grass around Harry makes his eyes pop, the rain pouring over his milky skin and rosy lips just look so delectable. He nods and Louis surges forward to kiss him and trace his tongue over the outline of his tattoos, starting with the swallows that adorned his chest, and the butterfly on his belly, to the laurels that point straight to his own thick erection.

Louis moves up, kneeling with his knees bracketing Harry’s shoulders. Harry grabs his length and pumps it once, twice and he’s happy of the relief Harry’s is providing him. He starts to lower himself to Harry’s awaiting mouth. “Pinch my thighs if you want to stop,” he says and Harry just nods.

He teases Harry’s mouth at first, circling his head over the lips, letting precum slick up the area. Although he’s not actually sure how that teases Harry, it’s more a tease to himself. Harry grows impatient and blows cold air over the head and it send shivers up his spine.

He’s ready for the warmth Harry’s mouth could provide so he dips himself in it and is amazed by how wet Harry’s mouth is, not only from his own fluids but from his saliva. Harry closes his eyes and just takes him in, moving his hand to the back of his thighs ready to pinch if it all gets too much, or maybe just supporting Louis. In the meantime, he runs his fingers over Louis thigh, and it tickles a bit, sending goose bumps rising in their wake.

Louis arches his back when he feels his tip nudge Harry’s throat. The boy beneath him hums and the vibrations are doing so much for him. He doesn’t dare move, his balls nestled in Harry’s chin. Harry smacks him on his arse urging him to move, “You want it rough, huh?” he asks.

This elicits another moan from Harry, the sound muffled by the dick stuffing his face. Louis takes it as his cue to move faster, pumping his hips and taking his cock in and out of Harry’s mouth. It feels so good and so dirty.

They were outside, and Louis is being as loud as he can knowing that Harry likes him that way. He curses as he fucks into him, and Harry gets a bit loud too. The neighbors might hear them if they were listening in, but the sounds they make do not cut through the rain, and even if they did, they are still protected by the hedges and no one would see.The thought must be driving Harry wild. He loves being watched, and he loves putting on a show as Louis would know.

Harry’s tongue swirl around the head when he pulls out, and lies flat over the vein on the underside when he’s all the way in. He feels Harry’s throat relax and he sees his cheeks start to go read from the pressure. Tears pool around his eyes from the pressure of opening his mouth wide for Louis, but it’s quickly washed away by the rain.

Even with the coolness of the rain surrounding them, he still feels hot, he wants to touch, to hold Harry. It’s exciting, and he doesn’t even hold back any sound; chanting a chorus of “fuck, fuck, fuck.” He arches his back, walking his hand to line with Harry’s hip. He blindly gropes around the crotch area searching for Harry’s dick. When he finds it, the other boy grinds his hips up in search of pressure and he gives it to him, hardening his palm so Harry could move up in earnest.

This is such a workout, his muscles all stretched and his thighs will surely kill him tomorrow, but it’s worth it to see Harry desperate for him. Just a few more sway of his hips and he knows he’s close.

He lifts himself, taking one hand to push Harry’s chest down and the other to pump his cock. Harry whines at the loss of friction. He circles his fingers tight around his shaft and aims it at Harry’s mouth. Just a couple more tugs and he’s painting Harry’s face with his load.

Harry smiles at him, as the rain washes away the come on his face. Louis pulls him up to a sitting position and kisses him square on the mouth.

Harry takes his finger and swipes it over his cheeks then inserts it in Louis’ mouth. He sucks on it and realizes he’s tasting his own come, just as Harry brushes it away with his tongue.

He roams his hand down Harry’s abdomen to his crotch while the other yanks on his hair. He becomes fully aware that Harry is still hard, and his back is littered with leaves.

He pulls him to go inside the house. Harry leaves his trainers by the porch and they make their way inside his bedroom towards the en suite. All the while Harry was pressed on his back peppering kisses on his shoulders. He realizes he’s completely naked when they come across the full length mirror. He pays it no mind, intent on cleaning Harry up and getting him off.

He opens the door to the shower and turns the tap. He turns around and kisses Harry as he waits for the water to heat up. He removes Harry’s joggers and socks.

When it was just the right temperature, he pushes Harry into the stall and gets him under the running water. It’s soothing, and the steam around them is warm to the skin. He runs his hands all over Harry’s body, removing grime and giving him a light massage.

He shampoos his hair and lathers his body with soap, admiring every inch and taking note of every part where he’s left marks. He then rinses Harry, careful not to hit his hard on. He then guides Harry to sit on the marble bench attached to the wall of the stall.

Harry does so and pulls Louis in for a kiss. He obliges him and lowers himself to his knees, the rubber pad giving him enough cushion.

He firmly holds on Harry’s hips to keep the boy from moving. He grabs Harry’s dick and kisses the head. The boy groans in response, tilting his head back and closing his eyes.

He takes the head in his mouth and runs his tongue over the slit. Warm water continues to pour down his back. He changed the shower setting a while back so it still feels like they’re in the rain. He continues sucking on just the head and his hand is loosely circling the shaft, his thumb pressing the vein on the underside.

He could feel Harry straining not to move his hips, but the marble is too slippery so he jitters a bit. “Lou,” he coos.

Louis removes his hand from the dick and holds Harry in place. Harry runs his hands on Louis’ scalp massaging with his fingers. Louis licks his groin and the boy moans his name. He follows it with his thumb as he gently sucks on the balls, his tongue curving up to the shaft until he reaches the tip.

He covers his teeth with his lips and takes in Harry’s length. Harry’s fingers starts digging on his shoulders as he hollows his cheeks and sucks as best he could to make his mouth airtight.

He bobs his head, humming through the tears welling up in his eyes. “You’re beautiful,” Harry says, drawing a finger to Louis’ lips so he could feel the spot where they’re connected.

He closes his eyes to better taste Harry. He feels Harry’s legs tense on his side and he knows that the boy is close. He moves faster and forms his lips around his cock tighter. Harry pulls on his hair screaming, “I’m coming, Lou!”

Louis pays no attention and just relaxes his jaw and takes as much of Harry that he can. He maintains his motions as steadily as possible and he feels Harry’s abdomen contract as he spills inside. Louis swallows around the head and uses his hand to jerk Harry off through his orgasm. Harry’s mouth is agape but no words were coming out. He looks stunning in this state, broken by Louis.

Harry bends down to kiss Louis, tasting a hint of himself on his mouth. They finish showering, thoroughly cleaning each other before they fall asleep.

 

…oOo…

 

“Third,” Harry says from the dining room table.

Louis flips the pancake unsatisfactorily; it’s shaped like a blob now, but he figures it would taste just the same. He could always just add lots of whipped cream on top to disguise its deformity. “That’s great love, you could still go up a notch. It would be hard if you’re number one now because the audience might lose interest in the last weeks and that’s when it would really count.”

“I guess you’re right.” Warm arms wrap around his abdomen and Harry hooks his chin on Louis’ shoulder. “That is not a pancake,” he says, a slight giggle escaping his lips.

Louis turns his head slightly with a glare. Harry then plants a loud kiss on his cheek.

“I’d still love it, though,” Harry whispers, blowing air into his ears making him a little ticklish.

“I reckon it’d taste the same,” Louis grabs a plate and transfers the blob in it, folding it in half because one side is longer.

Harry tears off a piece and eats it, and groaning somewhat explicitly.

“That’s a little obscene,” Louis comments, taking the first pancake he cooked earlier as they sit on the dining area. He drizzles a lot of chocolate syrup in his because he burnt it and he’s hoping the sweetness would cover the taste.

“Yes, this pancake is so good. I love it!” Harry yells, saying it so sexily as if he’s in a trance, and it really sounds like he’s coming. And to be honest, Louis is a little turned on.

“Stop making that noise please,” he requests, stuffing his face with the food.

“You love it when I make that noise,” Harry’s eyebrows meet and lines form on his forehead.

“Different context, love.”

“Okay,” he resigns, taking another bite. “By the way, my mom says she can’t make it this weekend. Something came up but she rescheduled to next weekend instead.”

“Sorry, hun,” he says, “I know you are looking forward to having her here.”

“I am, but it’s all good.”

“Yeah, it gives me more time to prepare,” Louis says.

“Prepare for what?” Harry asks.

“It’s been a while since I’ve met parents, and they usually don’t love me.”

“I love you, and that’s good enough for my mom,” Harry says, taking his hand and kissing his knuckles.

“I love you, too,” he says quietly, because he’s not sure if his nerves would actually allow him to speak. “And I hope so,” he adds.

 

…oOo…

 

Louis talks to Liam about publicity because he has more experience with it being directly employed by his management. He also opens up about the record label idea and how he talked to James about it.

They lounge around in his backyard and Louis tries his hardest not to think of the last time he was sitting in the very same lounge chair. They enjoy the rare London sun and drink cool beer. “Li, I want to work with you for the label.”

Liam sputters his drink. “What!” he shoots up straight and faces Louis. “I mean, of course I’d love to, but I have no bloody experience,” he says.

“So do I, but you know about publicity and managing artists and James would be there to guide us anyway,” he takes a sip of his beer, the bitter taste masked by the chill. “You still have time to think about it, nothing is set in stone yet, just thought I’d let you know.”

“Yes, I’d do it when you decide to. I don’t know if I mentioned this, but James offered me a job in his management company anyway, and we’re just waiting on your contract with Modest to end before I transfer,” he shoots Louis a winning grin. “I think it’s a really good idea, and it’d be great.”

Louis phone rings, it’s vibration makes the sound a bit louder. He gets up from the lounge chair to see who’s calling. It’s his mum. Uh-oh. “I gotta take this, Li,” Liam nods at him.

He swipes over the screen and places the phone near his ear as he makes his way towards the other end of the backyard. He feels like he’s done something wrong that’s why his mom is calling. “Hey, mum!” he says in his most chipper voice.

“Louis William Tomlinson,” oh no, she’s using his full name. This would be bad. “I’ve been waiting for two weeks for you to call me and you haven’t.”

“I’m sorry, mum,” he looks down at his feet, feeling sorry, as if he could be seen by his mum. “But there’s no news anyway,”

“Don’t you lie to me,” she says, her voice eerily calm in contrast to what she’s saying.

“What do you want to know?” he asks.

“Tell me about Harry Styles,” she demands.

Louis is suddenly fixated on the grass, which is kind of the wrong thing for his eyes to be glued on in this moment because memories and such. “He’s my contestant for Next Big Star, I told you about that show.”

“Yes, but you’re in love with him and you did not even tell your own mother,” her calm is gone, replaced by what Louis could only detect as excitement covered by a sheet of disappointment. “Does he know?”

“How do you know?” Louis asks, he feels like a teenager talking about his crush with his best friend. Come to think of it, he had always been good friends with his mum.

“Louis, anyone with eyes could see it. You were giving him heart eyes during that episode.”

His cheeks start burning; half from embarrassment and half from giddiness. He’s so far gone.

“He was giving you heart eyes too,” his mum concludes. And yes, Louis already knows this but it’s nice to hear it from someone outside his bubble.

“He knows, mum,” he says, digging his foot in the grass. He hugs himself, swaying in his spot. “And he loves me too.” He can’t help the huge grin splitting his face, and God, he’s just so filled with joy that he’s able to declare his love for Harry openly. At least to his family. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away, I guess I just wanted to enjoy having that knowledge all to myself first.”

His mum understands. He tells her everything she wanted to know, except those parts kids don’t usually tell their parents. She’s happy and excited as well. And Louis, he’s glad that everything is falling into place in his life.

 


	7. I Don’t Care, Go On and Tear Me Apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from [A Sky Full of Stars](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VPRjCeoBqrI)

“I want the world to know, I’ve got to let it show,” Harry hums. They are sitting on the couch having just finished their mandatory filmed coaching for the day.

Harry’s performance last night was awesome as it always is. The group number was a major hit on social media as well making #WannabeNextBigStar trend worldwide for more than four hours.

His and Harry’s mentions shot through the roof as well. More people wanted to find out if there’s a thing between them. Apparently, they’re called Larry Stylinson. It might be because of the fact that right before the show aired, they were asked to do something like a video diary where they were all asked gossipy questions.

They were in their dressing room getting their hair and makeup done when a camera crew came in with Jack. They were asked who their celebrity crushes were. Louis usually hated being asked this question since he would have to lie through his teeth and say a female name. Natalie Portman was always his go-to, and she’s beautiful of course, but he doesn’t play in the same court. It doesn’t seem so bad now since he could actually declare his unrequited infatuation with David Beckham since he was about sixteen.

Harry, on the other hand, says, “My first real crush is Louis Tomlinson,” which of course made him beet red. His emotions were teetering on excitement, embarrassment, and a little worry. Everyone around them laughed though, so it was good.

And he literally blew Harry away because of that.

He flips through the channels finding a suitable show to watch, scratching Haley’s neck on his lap. “Do you want our relationship to be public knowledge?” Louis asks genuinely.

Harry grabs Louis’ arm and nestles his head on the crook of his shoulder. “I don’t want to hide it,” he says. “It’s up to you, love, you’re the one who knows how this could affect both of our careers. I’m an architect, if the celebrity thing doesn’t work out, I’ll have a fallback. And you,” he pokes him on the nose, “You have quite a lovely arse to fall back on, and the label of course,” he says as an afterthought, chuckling a little.

“You want to talk about it? Because I’m feeling conflicted myself,” he says.

Harry nods and Haley jumps from his lap to the other boy’s. It is a testament to how long Harry has been a constant in Louis’ life that his cat would freely go to him. “Okay, one con is that our privacy would be lessened,” Harry starts.

“A pro would be that I could do this,” Louis leans in to press a noisy wet kiss on Harry’s cheek, “In public,’ he adds.

“That’s definitely a pro,” Harry agrees. “Another pro is that we don’t have to tiptoe around the topic during interviews. We could just say we’re together and that’s that.”

“Part of the privacy that would be gone is that people would create rumors about you. And I know you’ll say it wouldn’t matter what they think, but it’ll matter if it’s already about your family,” Louis draws from his own experience.

“But that’ll come either way, Lou,” Harry says. “I mean, assuming I win and do become a celebrity, whether we’re together or not, those kinds of rumors would still surface.”

“What if they say you only got your shot at stardom because you were sleeping with me?” Louis says.

“Then it’s their thought, not mine, I knew I got this shot because of my charms and wit and sex appeal,” he says. He grabs Louis’ cheeks and plants a kiss on his mouth.

“So do you want to do it gradually?” Louis asks.

“Only if you do.”

“Are you kidding me? Of course I want to tell everyone that the fittest guy in all of London is whipped with me,” that earns him a smack on his shoulder, but Harry is grinning.

“What could possibly go wrong?” Harry asks.

 

…oOo…

 

Louis is still conflicted. First, there’s still something nagging inside him telling him to keep Harry to himself, keep their relationship out of the public eye. But wasn’t that what went wrong with his relationship with Derek, keeping them a secret? But on the other point of view, Harry isn’t Derek, and he would not do that to Louis if they decide to not tell the public yet. Second, he feels quite happy to be able to tell the world that Harry is his love, and he is Harry’s. He never doubts their love, but he’s still scared of how it could be transformed by the evil clutches of show business. And with every separate argument supporting each thought he has, that’s the bottom line isn’t it? That he’s sure of their love.

They decide on going public through their social media accounts. A pro of going that route is that it could help to gain votes because their followers would see that they’re online, and would use the various hashtags the show came up with.

First to post on his Instagram account is Harry. It is a picture of Louis in his sweats and vest in front of the stove. He captioned it, “Louis’ first cooking experience.” Of course it isn’t true, Louis cooked botched waffles and pancakes before, and even made those instant mac and cheese. Still, it was the first proper meal he ever cooked.

He did cook the meal, it isn’t staged, he prepped all the ingredients while Harry went to the firm to go check on his projects. Once he’s done plating the chicken he takes a picture and lets Harry choose which filter to use. He moves the plates to the table and they sit from across each other.

The chicken looks good, stuffed with mozzarella cheese and wrapped in parma ham. Louis added a bit of homemade mash to go along with it. Harry manages to brighten the colors of the food, making it look more delicious than it probably is. He hits post with the caption, “The most romantic thing I’ve ever done.”

They then switch off their phones and enjoy their night in; basking in each other’s company and just soaking in the other’s warmth.

It tasted pretty good, for Louis’ first meal.

 

…oOo…

 

Both their phones are bombarded with notifications when they turn it on the next day. It’s a Wednesday and Louis is going to rehearsals with Harry. He opens Twitter and Instagram to check how the fans are taking the news.

Sure enough, they have put two and two together and realized that Larry Stylinson is real. The comments were mostly positive, although there are still a few homophobic slurs here and there, but Louis is used to it. He shouldn’t be used to it in a perfect world, but right now, the love on his feed overpowers the negativity so he just accepts it.

He then sees that Liam already has five missed calls so he presses the little phone icon beside his name and waits for him to pick up.

He does so after only one ring with a frantic, “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming out?”

Louis could hear concern tinged with delight in his voice. “I’m already out, Li. And good morning to you too!”

He stands up and starts to pace around his room, he can’t take phone calls sitting down. “Don’t be smart with me.”

“It just kind of happened. We decided the night before and just did it. Do you think something could go wrong?” He’s suddenly worried, thinking that he should have consulted someone from the outside first, someone trained in publicity before he jumped in.

“No, not necessarily. I always say to be honest to the public. I don’t think it’ll be messy anyway, I’m checking online and everyone seems to have a positive response and Harry’s number one on that poll thing for Next Big Star.”

A whoop escapes Louis just as Harry emerges from the bathroom. “Number 1!” he almost screams, his free hand’s pointer finger rising to indicate the number.

Harry grins from ear to ear and runs toward Louis, lifting him up from the waist and kind of just jostling him. He buries his face in his chest and blows a raspberry just as the towel wrapped around him falls. He squeaks and lets go of Louis, getting the towel to cover himself up.

“As if I haven’t seen that before,” Louis remarks, totally forgetting that Liam is on the other end of the line.

Liam clears his throat. “We could talk more later, I bet Harry’s naked in front of you.”

He is not wrong. “Okay, Li, love you. Bye,” he says as Harry swings his hips in front of him. Ready to pounce.

They arrive at the studio a few minutes late because they had more important things to attend to. And if that involved whipped cream getting lodged in different parts of their bodies and Harry having to take another shower, well, Louis is not one to kiss and tell.

 

…oOo…

 

The day that Louis has been dreading is finally here. He and Harry are at the latter’s flat tidying up for his mum’s arrival. There isn’t a lot to clean up actually, but he can’t stop himself from fidgeting and re-dusting all the visible surfaces just to keep his hands occupied. Otherwise he’d be pacing the floor of the living room and boring a hole right through the room below.

“Babe, relax,” Harry says, handing him a cup of tea. He’s currently wiping the center table in the living room for the umpteenth time.

Louis takes the mug and puts it on top of a coaster. “I cannot.”

“You missed a spot,” Harry points to the corner of the table.

He frantically moves over to swipe the rag over it, but he finds that it’s clean. “Don’t fucking tease me, Styles,” he grunts. God, he needs to do something. He has too much pent up energy, he might just combust from the nerves he’s having. It feels like he’s about to perform in front of thousands of people, and this might be worse. Because the only person he wants to impress more than Harry, is the person who brought him to the world.

Harry furrows his brows as he extends his hand to stroke Louis’ arms. “I thought you love being teased?” he says with a glint in his eyes. “Loving the edge of glory and I’m hanging on a moment with you,” he modifies the lyrics.

Louis just rolls his eyes, stifling his laugh. Harry’s hand wraps around his arm and he pulls him to sit on his lap. He follows him and nuzzles his neck. He’s still a bundle of nerves, but Harry’s body heat surrounding him is providing much needed comfort. He closes his eyes and listens to the sound of his breathing.

Harry runs his fingers through Louis’ hair as he sings, “whenever you need someone to lay your heart and head upon, remember after the fire, after all the rain, I will be the flame.”

He feels himself relax with Harry’s soothing baritone like thick syrup in his ear. “What if she hates me?” Louis voices out his worry.

“She won’t because I love you,” Harry says like he’s so sure of it. He might feel that Louis isn’t convinced yet so he continues, “She’s always been proud that me and my sister are good judges of character. She trusts me to make good decisions when it comes to people I get involved with.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean she’ll like who you’re with. Just that she trusts you,” Louis pipes.

“Lou, don’t you know you’re a catch,” Harry stops stroking him, instead lifts his chin so they’re face to face. “You’ve got a good head on you, you’re smart, great with kids, successful, you love your family, you’re rich, and you have the best arse this world has ever seen,” Harry ticks off. “What else could my mom ask for? What else could I ask for?”

“I get it, I have a nice arse,” he says.

“Is that the only thing you picked up on on my speech?” Harry asks with faux incredulity.

Of course not. Louis’ heart expanded with every characteristic Harry said. And not to toot his own horn, but he is all of those things. And Harry loves him for it, and it shouldn’t really matter what anyone else thinks, right? “For your information, you’re the catch. There are times when I can’t believe my luck that my very manly wrists caught your fancy,”

Harry grins at him, “Your arse actually,” he says.

“You just love my arse don’t you?” Louis swats at him.

“Love seeing it, touching it,” Harry’s hands move their way to cup his bum and give it a firm squeeze.

Louis squeaks but moves into the touch. “Prepping it,” his finger teases the waistband of Louis’ jeans, grazing a finger on the sliver of skin that’s exposed. “Eating it,” the pad of his finger drops lower to the top of his crack. “Fucking it,” and the finger sinks lower, as low as it can go with the waistband hitting his perlicue.

Louis turns completely and puts his hands on Harry’s shoulders, holding him tightly and kissing him. He doesn’t even wait and just full on snogs him, licking into his mouth and meeting Harry’s tongue.

Harry’s hold becomes bruising as Louis filthily bites his lower lip eliciting a gorgeous moan. He weaves his hand through the curls and pulls Harry closer to him, their bodies so so close.

It’s familiar. It’s very dirty with the way they are so loud, not caring if anybody heard. Whispering all the things they’d like to do to each other.

They soon realize that they do not have time for anything other than languidly making out because Harry’s mum may arrive at anytime. So they fix themselves, patting out the wrinkles in their clothes to look like they haven’t just made out. And they file away the things they whispered for next time.

 

…oOo…

 

Anne, Harry’ mum, arrives around an hour later. Louis is wearing his most respectable casual clothes: jeans rolled up to reveal his ankles and a grey jumper, but he feels naked with the way she’s staring at him.

She isn’t really staring; Louis just feels like she’s observing his every move. And he needs to calculate every step he takes in case she takes it the wrong way.

Harry is talking animatedly, regaling her with stories about the show, the rehearsals and the important people he’s met because of it. Louis has the strong urge to tuck in a loose curl which fell from Harry’s bun behind his ear, but he’s afraid that Anne might eat him up if he so much as breathe on Harry.

He’s playing with his hands, trying his very best to listen to what his boyfriend is saying, pushing down his nerves and concentrating on not fucking up. Anne may be smiling from across the table, but damnit he really does feel scared.

The oven dings and Harry stands up to check on the cauliflower casserole he’s baking. They are already in the dining table and all the place settings are neatly arranged in front of them. He wants to grab Harry’s hand and tell him not to leave them. But he’s a mature adult, surely he could handle being with Anne alone.

“So, Louis,” she says, focusing all her attention on him. And Louis swears the room’s temperature rose ten degrees, and he’s cursing the jumper he’s wearing. Which turns out to be Harry’s. He does his best to smile, channeling everything he’s learned from theatre class in secondary school. “How are you spending your hiatus? Aside from the show, I mean,” she asks.

Louis can answer this, “I’m still writing music,” he starts. “I’ve written some songs for a few artists, also recording my own stuff.”

She smiles at him, but it’s a bit cold. Louis could sense that she’s being civil only because Harry is there. “Do you plan on writing songs for Harry?”

“If he wants me to. I have a couple of songs that would sound really good if he sang it,” Louis says, observing Harry in his peripheral vision. This would be a very lovely conversation because he could just go on and on singing Harry praises and complimenting his voice, but the icicle looks Anne is throwing is pretty telling that she does not like him. “But he’s also good at writing himself,” he continues. “We tried recording it and it sounds sick.”

Harry sets the casserole on the center of the table and they eat in peace. Mother and son exchanging anecdotes of their everyday life. It reminds him of him and his own mum when they get together after a while of not seeing each other. Every little story just doesn’t feel mundane, like he needs to share it and hear the same from his mum.

He laughs at all the right places and interjects comments here and there, trying to sound insightful. He tries his best to show how much he cares for Harry.

When they finish eating, he helps Harry clean up while Anne goes to freshen up. He’s washing the dishes, and Harry wipes them dry.

“See, I told you mum would like you,” Harry says, giving his shoulder a little bump.

“What? No she doesn’t,” Louis says, scrubbing the plate harder than necessary.

Harry hums. “I think she’s just testing you,” he says. “You’re the first ever boy I let her meet.”

Louis stops what he’s doing, turning off the tap. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he faces Harry.

Harry shrugs so Louis turns the knob and continues rinsing. “I didn’t think it’ll be relevant. Just be yourself, love,” Harry kisses his forehead. “It’s pretty obvious that you’re nervous.”

“I’m trying not to be. I’ve never met my boyfriend’s parents before,” he confesses.

Harry puts the plate in the rack and hugs Louis from behind. He drops a kiss on his shoulder and rests his chin there. “I love you,” he says, “and I know how important it is to you that mum likes you, but she can’t get to that place if you don’t relax. Be yourself, you’re pretty awesome.”

“I love you, and I’ll try my best,” Louis says.

When it became dark out, he says his goodbye and makes his way home to give Anne and Harry a little mother-son time.

He finds comfort in his attic. He lays in the mattress, covering himself up with the fleece blanket and just stares at the sky.

He shouldn’t really read too much into Anne. He doesn’t know her well enough for him to be able to gauge her reactions perfectly. He should just listen to Harry and be himself, his relaxed, sassy, quick-witted self.

 

…oOo…

 

They are scheduled last to have the stage the next day, so their morning is free. Harry decides to take his mum and Louis to Wilmington.

Kids, he does kids well. He loves kids. Kids would ease whatever tension he will inevitably feel when sitting beside Anne. They’re a good buffer, kids.

Louis texts Harry to just pick him up in the nearest bakery to his house. He walks two blocks to go there and wears a big pair of sunglasses to go incognito. He slips through the street unnoticed and buys all the donuts he could carry.

He sees the Range Rover approaching so he balances five boxes stacked on top of each other. A kind little boy sees him and opens the door for him. “Thanks, love,” he says.

The boy with the rosy cheeks smiles and runs inside to the counter.

Harry parks the car and hurriedly goes to help him with the boxes. He takes three boxes from Louis as he kisses him on the forehead. Blood rushes to his cheek; suddenly feeling shy at the display of affection.

They head on over to the back where they carefully stash the boxes. “Good morning, Anne!” Louis says, the name is still weird on his tongue – like he shouldn’t be calling Harry’s mum by her first name.

Anne turns and smiles at him, “Hello Louis,” she says. So maybe it’s a good thing?

“I missed you,” Harry whispers, brushing his fingers over Louis’.

“Mutual,” Louis replies.

Harry leads him to the backseat, because his mum has shotgun of course. He makes himself comfortable. He’s used to sitting in the backseat of limos or town cars his management sends for him whenever he attends something fancy. But he’s never been on the backseat of this car.

He’s always in front with Harry, holding his hand, or touching parts of him he could reach. And right now he has the utmost need to reach out and just draw circles on his shoulders. Maybe adjust Harry’s seatbelt so he wouldn’t have that red line on his neck later.

It’s fine though. He could take it. It’s only a fifteen-minute drive. He relaxes into his seat and smiles at Harry through the rear view mirror. “Haz told me you’re the one who got him and his sister in the big sibling program,” he tries to start a conversation with Anne.

“I did,” she says. “I wanted them to know how to care for children and to be exposed to taking responsibility at an early age,” she continues.

“That’s lovely,” he replies.

“Yeah, we were more hands on then,” Harry interjects. “Like, we went there after school and helped with their homework as well.”

“I think how a person relates with kids tells a lot about their character,” she says. “You could see how patient, responsible, and understanding a person is.”

“Louis loves kids, and the kids at Wilmington love him too,” Harry says. Louis could hear the unspoken, “and I love him too,” in the lilt in his voice.

“Do you now?” she asks, looking at him through the mirror.

Louis nods, “Yes, I grew up with four younger sisters. They look up to me, and I feel protective over them. Then when I left for my second tour, my mom had another pair of twins so now I have five sisters and a brother.”

“It must be challenging being the oldest.”

“Yes,” Louis says, “Constantly having to be strong for them and putting on a brave face.” He doesn’t launch into the story of how before his career took off, they barely had enough to go by. “But it’s also good, I love it when I tuck them in at night and they kiss me goodnight.”

“That’s sweet,” Anne remarks.

Before he knows it, Harry is navigating his way to a small parking space in the back. He makes the car fit like a professional and they all get down. They make their way to the entrance after getting the boxes from the back.

He and Harry place the boxes they carried on top of the counter as they register as visitors. The concierge helps them out by pointing out the blanks which need to be filled out.

Once he’s done he waits for Anne to finish marking up her form. He feels little fingers tugging on the fabric of his jeans. He turns around to look at who it is. “Sephie!” he greets.

The little girl puts her arms up asking for Louis to carry her. “Louis!” she says, burying her face in his neck. She’s wearing a blue dress, but it is much more casual than what she wore during her birthday. “You’re here!”

“I told you I’d visit, didn’t I?” he says, giving her head a soft kiss.

She pulls her head up and kisses him on the cheek. “I saw you and Haddy on TV,” she squeals. “You should sing together.”

By that time, Anne finishes signing up. “Hey, Seph,” Harry greets.

Sephie twists her body and extends her arms to Harry.

Harry complies and gets her from Louis. “I have someone I’d like you to meet,” he says. “I have my mum with me.”

Sephie smiles and looks around to find Anne smiling back. “Hello, darling. Harry’s told me so much about you,” she says.

“You’re Haddy’s mummy?” she asks, her eyes wide. “You’re so pretty.”

Anne coos and says, “Thanks, love. You’re also very beautiful.”

“Haddy, can you and Louis sing for us after we eat?”

“You know I can’t say ‘no’ to you, Seph,” Harry kisses her on the cheek and she giggles.

They start to make their way to the activity room, Louis carrying all the boxes. “What song would you like us to sing? Happy Birthday again?” he asks.

“No, silly, it’s not my birthday remember?” the hidden duh explicit in her tone. “Sing my favorite song.”

“And what is that?” he asks.

“Strong,” she smiles.

“We could do that,” Harry says.

Louis lines up the boxes on the food counter. He’s greeted by high-fives and cheers when he turns around to face the children setting up the activity room so they could eat.

Unlike before, there isn’t a long table in the middle of the room. Instead the tables are placed separately, just like in a cafeteria.

The kids are slowly queuing up with trays in their hands to get food from Barbara. Louis waves at her and she waves back.

Sephie sits with the three of them in the adult’s table when they eat. Afterwards, she asks them to sing while she’s sitting on Anne’s lap.

Harry does a quick detour to his car to grab his guitar. As they wait, several kids go to Louis to play and he indulges them. When Harry arrives, they set up in the makeshift stage and sing for the kids.

They’re applauded by the kids and bombarded with more requests. They accede of course, because both him and Harry are weak when it comes to the kids. God, their children are gonna be so spoiled. Wait. Did Louis just think of having kids with Harry?

…oOo…

The stage rehearsals take place in this big auditorium where the live shows are filmed. Harry’s by himself on stage, the theme for the week is Madonna.

Aside from the comments about him and Harry, serious Next Big Star audiences are actually giving good constructive criticism. They expressed their opinion and said that they want to hear Harry sing something upbeat, because for the past two live shows, the songs they picked were a bit mellow. Also, after seeing him try his best to dance for Wanna Be, they asked if he could include some simple choreography in the next show. They decide to take advantage of the theme, so Harry will be singing Like a Virgin.

Louis, is a hopeless, terrible dancer so he hired a professional choreographer for Harry. Harry and the choreographer are on stage now trying out the dance moves they rehearsed in Louis’ backyard.

Anne and Louis are seated in the front row observing and giving comments here and there. Once Harry is running through the whole routine, Anne talks to him. “Louis,” she says.

Louis turns his head, with great effort because he really can’t tear his eyes away from Harry. He smiles up at her, “Yes?” he almost asks.

“What are your intentions with my son?”

Okay, so they’re having this talk now. The question actually explains why she’s been so cold, but somehow it calms Louis down. At least now he knows it isn’t just about him. “I love him,” he says a bit wistfully. “If he’ll have me, I’d marry him someday.”

“Even if he doesn’t win this thing?”

Louis is a bit taken aback. Does Anne think this is all for show? “Of course. I wouldn’t care what he does for a living.” He could probably be an assassin and Louis would even help him hide the body. But he doesn’t say that thought out loud.

“So it isn’t your goal to sign him to your own label?” she asks, looking pointedly. “Isn’t that why you chose him?”

Louis’ blood starts simmering at the question. As if implying he only want Harry because he gets something out of it. “If he wants to, I would definitely sign him. But it’s up to him, I want the best for him of course, but it’s always his choice,” he answers truthfully, thinking that it is actually Harry who chose him, that night in the pub.

“If he doesn’t want anything to do with the music industry, you’re okay with that?”

“Of course!” he answers. “He’s a talented architect, he’s shown me some of his works designing people’s home,” and Louis sometimes thinks Harry’s become his own home. “I don’t care what he does, as long as he’s happy. I have enough money for the both of us. But knowing Harry, he wouldn’t like to be idle or dependent on someone, which is one of the things I love about him.”

“Sorry I was cold to you,” Anne says. “I just also want what’s best for Harry, and he clearly knows what that is because he picked you and for the first time introduced his boyfriend to me.”

“It’s okay, my mum would probably be the same way. I just want you to know that I do love your son.”

“I know show business can be a cruel world, just take care of him,” Anne requests.

She pulls him in for a hug, “I’ll protect him,” Louis promises.

They break apart and Anne is smiling brightly at him. “So, marriage huh?” she prods.

Louis suddenly can’t look at her. He can feel the blood rushing to his cheeks. “Well,” he starts. “Whenever I get into a relationship, the goal had always been forever.”

She looks at him with soft wondering eyes. “And you feel that way with Harry.”

It’s supposed to be an inquiry, but she says it more like it’s a fact. Which it is. “Yes,” he answers.

 

…oOo…

 

Everything goes smoothly after. Anne is more receptive of him and the icicle stares are gone. Louis is also more comfortable in showing affection towards Harry, and he can’t help but notice that Anne goes soft when he does.

So, yes, she was cold, and Louis wasn’t imagining it. She’s entitled to though. First of all, she’s a mum; second, her son is discovering a new career, a new territory where people are way harsher and she’s just being protective.

They’re in the set now, waiting for Harry to perform. Louis is seated in the coaches’ panel and Anne is in one of the reserved seats for the audience.

Harry is the last to perform, and the audience is pumped because everyone else gave such good performances. The lights dim as they set up the stage for Harry.

It’s a full on production because they’ve set up the stage to really fit the song. The first notes waft from the speakers. It’s the first time Harry isn’t using his guitar. “I made it through the wilderness,” he sings, making his way out of the prop ravines hanging from the ceiling of the stage.

Louis watches with rapt attention as he wasn’t able to fully absorb everything yesterday. Harry sways his hips, “Didn’t know how lost I was until I found you,” he points his finger to Louis. The camera pans to him, and his reddened face is plastered on the screen. He dares not to cover his face and just smile through it, to the amusement of the audience.

“You made me feel shiny and new,” Harry shimmies, and it’s the cutest thing Louis has ever seen. He wants to eat him up and make him feel like a virgin.

In usual Harry fashion, everyone loves his performance. The audience even give him a standing ovation. And God, Louis is gonna give him a standing O when they get home. It’s a good thing Anne is going back to Cheshire right after the show.


	8. The Stars Don’t Shine Tonight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from [Something in the Way You Move](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hOT2XC9nmSU)

 

The fourth live show will have the contestants showcasing their song writing skills. Each of them will have to perform an original song written by them with the help from their mentors. There’s no group performance, hence no rehearsals for this week. The producers notified the coaches that they should use the extra time to polish their bet’s performances.

That’s exactly what Harry and Louis are doing, if having their limbs tangled up in bed is considered polishing. Louis is already awake and he’s taking in as much of Harry as he could. If the blinking number shown by his bedside alarm is any indication, Harry’s alarm would go off in about fifteen minutes and he’ll have to go to the firm.

He squeezes him one more time before untangling himself and sitting up on the bed. Louis has really gotten better at cooking with lots of help from Harry of course. Today he wants to try and cook breakfast for Harry, maybe try making French toast since it probably won’t turn out to be a mess of a blob like his pancakes.

As Louis is about to get his phone from the table in Harry’s side, he can’t help but notice that Harry is hard. Achingly so, that the blanket is tenting a bit over his crotch. Louis’ mouth waters but not from the thought of French toast. He feels a little sore from yesterday’s activities, since they were going at it all night. A glance at the clock tells him he only has eleven minutes left, and he’d better make it count.

It’s a good thing that Harry is already lying flat on his back for what Louis is about to do. He removes the blanket to reveal a still naked Harry, and he does a little dance to celebrate.

Louis plants a soft, fleeting kiss on Harry’s cheek. His lips ghost over Harry’s neck, and trails down, down, down to his navel. Louis’ hands graze Harry’s side as he makes his way to his destination. The head of Harry’s dick is resting snugly below his bellybutton, and Louis gives it a tentative kiss.

Harry moans sweetly, and Louis looks up to see if he’s awaken the boy. He hasn’t, although Harry arches his neck a little. Louis covers his teeth with his lips and circles his mouth over the head. He tongues over the slit and he hears Harry whimper.

Louis hollows his mouth and takes Harry in deeper and deeper, starting to taste precum bubbling over the head. He pops him out and gives smooth kitten licks all over the shaft getting it nice and slick. Harry grunts, still asleep but his hips are starting to raise from the bed. He purrs out a soft, “Lou.”

He knows Harry is dreaming now and that just gets Louis more excited. He takes him in again and hollows his mouth, sucking in the shaft and holding his lips as tightly as he could. He bobs his head as his hold on Harry’s hips becomes bruising.

Harry grunts and Louis keeps his eyes closed enjoying the sexy sounds his boyfriend is making. He does his best to stifle his own moans, but he knows that his humming sends good vibrations up and down Harry’s prick as he takes him in and out of his mouth.

In a flash, a big hand is tangled through his hair, softly pulling. “Fuck, Lou,” Harry says.

All Louis can do is let go of Harry’s hips and clasp his hands behind his back to let Harry control the rhythm. Harry fucks in and out of him, and Louis relaxes his jaw to be able to take more. He sees Harry’s toes curl and knows that he’s close.

Harry’s hips jerk as he spills inside Louis. He swallows as best he could and licks Harry all over. He pops him out of his mouth and says, “Good morning, love,” so innocently.

The alarm rings and Harry immediately taps the button to stop the annoying sound. He then pulls Louis to him and kisses him. “I love you,” he says.

Louis hugs him as an answer. “Shower, while I make you breakfast.”

 

…oOo…

 

Almost everything is just lovely. Their families know and approve of their relationship. Louis’ mum already met Harry through Skype, and they seem to get along well. The record label project is pushing through. James’ people conducted the feasibility study and concluded that it might take time before they turn over a profit, but they already had all the necessary connections that it shouldn’t be that big of a problem.

What isn’t lovely, are the comments people are saying online. He and Harry have been posting hints on social media that they were spending time together. Just a tweet here and there, mentioning each other. Sometimes an Instagram post of a random object, but the audience would definitely see the other lurking in the background. Never a picture of them together, although they have plenty of those.

The initial wave of glorious support for their relationship is now overpowered by nasty people generally saying that Harry’s ranking in the Next Big Star is only caused by his relationship with Louis, that he has no actual talent, that he’s only using Louis. What’s worse is that they actually mention Harry in their tweets.

This is the reason why he does not want bringing people in his world. God, if it was just him, he can take all the criticisms, listen to the helpful ones and discard the sexist ableist comments about his sexuality. He can use it to his advantage. What he can’t take is people being mean to Harry for no good reason.

Sure they’ve talked about this, but the fact that he’s brought this on to the most wonderful person in the world does not sting any less. He wants to backtrack, take back everything and claim that he and Harry aren’t in a relationship, that people are reading too much into it.

He can’t. Of course not. He’s proud of Harry, wants the world to know that they belong to each other, that they belong together. Backtracking would also just confuse the public and probably stir up more hate.

He’s just completely stuck between a rock and a hard place. Keeping his relationship a secret damned him. Telling the world of it, apparently has the same effect. Maybe he just shouldn’t get in relationships. Maybe he should just stay away.

That’s what he does; distance himself for Harry. It’s easy because they don’t have to film those coaching footages. The editors would be editing all those other videos they have and it’ll be shown in lieu of the group performance on Sunday. Since Harry wants his song to be a surprise to Louis, they don’t have to see each other all week.

He’s able to dodge out of seeing Harry or having him come over by going home to Doncaster. The drive only takes less than an hour and Louis regrets the fact that he doesn’t do it quite often.

Even so, the time is long enough for him to stew in thoughts of ending things with Harry. He just knows that sooner or later he’ll burst into tears right on the highway.

He pulls up in front of his mum’s house and realizes that he didn’t even call to say he is coming. He just stuffed his clothes in his bag, carried Haley out the door and drove. Relief wafts through him when he sees the minivan parked in the driveway. He scoops up Haley and his duffel bag from the backseat and walks the few meters to the door.

It swings open before he even rings the doorbell, and he’s greeted by his mum’s smiling face. He puts Haley down and pulls his mum into a tight embrace. “Hello, love,” his mum says in a knowing tone.

Why do moms have a sixth sense? Louis’ sure she knows something’s up, but he tries his best to seem nonchalant. “I missed you,” he says, still squeezing his mum.

“Do you want to talk about it?” his mum asks, motioning for him to go in.

Louis shakes his head, “Not yet.”

“How about some lunch? The twins are still in school, you could pick ‘em up later,” his mum suggests, already making her way to the kitchen.

“That’d be nice. Where’re Doris and Ernest?”

“They’re with Dan. He took them to a playdate with one of his workmate’s kids.”

Before he knows it, he’s seated in the dining room and his mum is serving him a sandwich and chips as they wait for the kettle to boil. He takes a careful bite, realizing that he’s alone with his mum, and he might just break down at any moment.

“Is everything okay with Harry?”

There’s the question. “No,” he puts down the sandwich, not even feeling a bit hungry.

“Did he hurt you?” his mum looks like she’s ready to go to battle.

The kettle boils so Louis goes over the stove to pour the hot water into the mugs next to where his favorite Yorkshire bag is sitting. “No. But I think I want to end things with him,” he almost whispers, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

“Is this because of people being mean to him online?”

Louis gets both of the mugs and sets one in front of his mum. He goes back to sit and nods.

“Did you talk to him about it?” his mum asks.

“I don’t need to. I don’t want him in this world,” he circles his hand over the mug letting the heat transfer to his body.

“Honey, don’t you think you’re being unfair to him?”

“Would I be fair to him if I kept him in this world? Keep him by my side just because I want him there, even though he’ll get hurt?” He’s crying now. He wipes his tears with his thumb. He just wants to end things, and not make Harry’s life any harder. If he didn’t stumble into that pub in the first place just because he wanted to stay relevant, he wouldn’t bring all this misery to Harry.

“That’s the point, boo. It isn’t solely your choice. It’s Harry’s too,” she takes his hand in hers. “You love him, and he loves you. He needs to be part of this decision. He’s much stronger than you give him credit for.”

“Mum, I don’t doubt his strength. I’m just acknowledging my weakness.”

 

…oOo…

 

He spends the next few days plugged away from everything. He sent Harry and Liam a text saying he went to Doncaster and then turned off his phone.

It’s hard not to talk to Harry after being used to spending almost everyday with him. He misses him, but every time he feels the urge to text him, he just writes. Louis is fully aware that he is being harsh on Harry, but maybe if he continues this charade, it will not be a surprise to Harry that they break up.

He doesn’t want to throw it all away. Louis thought he and Harry would be forever. Harry’s career will be great, if he isn’t associated with Louis. That’s just a fact confirmed when Daisy tells him that Harry’s ranking on Friday dropped to fourth place; the lowest it’s ever been.

Maybe Louis is just destined to be alone.

 

…oOo…

 

Louis is in the guest room all curled up with his Moleskin and blanket sitting on the window ledge when there’s a soft knock on his door. “Come in,” he says, dropping the notebook to his side.

The door opens and it’s his mum. “You have a visitor,” she says.

Louis expects it to be one of his Donny friends, he is surprised to see a head of curls emerging from his doorway. “Harry,” he whispers.

Harry takes a few tentative steps, but he’s smiling at Louis. That moment just breaks Louis’ heart.

“I’d leave you two alone,” his mum says before she turns around and closes the door.

Louis is still frozen in place but Harry closes the distance between them and throws his arms around him in a tight hug. “I missed you, love,” he says, his voice cracking.

Louis doesn’t dare squeeze back lest he lose control and never let go. “What are you doing here?” he says, his words colder than he intended them to be.

Harry let’s go and sits across Louis. “I…” he starts. “Is there something wrong, Lou?”

Louis wants to say, “yes.” A lot of things are so wrong right now. He wants to cry out, which is what he was doing for the past days. His eyes are even puffy. Everything is wrong. Except his love for Harry. He can’t even say it out loud. Something must be fundamentally wrong with him if he’s a songwriter and he can’t even use words to tell Harry how he feels. He just sobs. It didn’t matter anyway, if what they had is inevitably going to end.

“Love, talk to me,” Harry says, cupping his face and placing a feather-light kiss on his forehead.

Louis covers his face with his hands, not wanting to see Harry, and not wanting Harry to see him. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

“You’re starting to scare me, Lou. Why are you sorry?”

He dares to take a peek. Louis sees Harry put as much distance as he can between them while still being in the alcove. “For everything, for bringing you to this world. For making people hate you because you’re with me.”

“Is that why you went home?” he asks. “Because you thought it’s better to stay away from me?”

Louis just nods, feeling a tad stupid and reckless.

“Babe, when does staying away from each other ever help? I’m your boyfriend, you’re supposed to talk to me about these things,” Harry says with a lot more patience than Louis deserves.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I love you, Haz. A lot.”

Rain starts to pour from the sky and little droplets start racing down his glass windows. Harry stays silent, listening in to what Louis is saying.

“I’m weak for the ones I love. I especially hate it when people hate on them for no good reason. When I was doing my tours, I figured it best that I stay as far away from my loved ones as possible, or whenever I’m with them I keep it a secret. I rarely visit home, and when I do, I ask my sisters not to post anything on social media. Because they get hate. And I know they put on a brave face, and they tell me it doesn’t bother them, but I know it does. I just, I don’t want you to go through that.”

“You should give me more credit, Lou,” Harry says, looking directly into Louis’ eyes. “It was my decision to enter your world. I was gonna get hate whether I’m with you or not, and I’d rather be with you.”

“I’m sorry,” Louis says for about the umpteenth time today. All of his actions this week seem so dramatic and futile. Didn’t he already have a resolution to just talk to Harry about everything? “I’m really sorry,” he repeats.

“I know you are, love, but you don’t need to be,” Harry’s back in his space, and he pretty much likes him to stay. “I know you just thought it’s the best for me.”

Louis nods.

“Just next time,” Harry continues. “Talk to me, baby. I'm going blind from this sweet, sweet craving, whoa,” he sings.

And that’s it. Every ridiculous, sad, and selfish thought Louis had evaporates into thin air. They’ll talk more about his issues later. Right now, he just wants to kiss the boy singing his heart out in front of him. So he does.

 

…oOo…

 

Harry spends the night and they head back to London the next morning.

Harry went to Doncaster via train, so he rides with Louis on the way home. The drive is easy, and Louis is glad he decided to bring his trusty Ford with the automatic transition. That way he could spend the time holding Harry’s hand unbothered by shifting gears.

Their time is spent talking, and laughing and cheering each other on. In a span of fifty minutes, they’ve been able to thresh out their issues.

Harry starts by saying that he’s always been afraid of his loved ones running away from him. Instant guilt courses through Louis’ veins, he did not even consider how his brash act would have affected Harry. It turns out that his biological father left their family a few weeks after he’s born. His first serious relationship ended when the girl left him for another man when he focused on his studies in uni. The next one ended when he was chosen to be a partner in his architectural firm instead of him. Harry’s always felt like it’s always his fault why they ran away. So he decided not to take his relationships seriously, until Louis came into his life.

At first, he thought that the cute guy in the pub would be a nice hook up, but then everything changed. He’s actually felt a deep attraction to Louis, unlike those that he’s ever felt before. Then he started spouting out song lyrics, later realizing that he meant every word, and that he was in love.

When Louis left for home and did not pick up his calls, he became worried that the same thing was happening all over again. But during his rehearsals with the lads, Liam revealed that Louis keeps everything to himself. Harry says that he should’ve known, it took a while before Louis told him he loves him. In the end, he’s just glad Louis is with him.

Louis opens up and says that it’s difficult for him to say what he feels, and he usually needs something or someone to coax it out of him, especially when it’s a negative feeling. It might have been because he’s so used to putting on a strong front for his sisters, and how he just sucks up his feelings and puts them first.

He apologizes again, knowing the extent of how much he hurt Harry. It may just be a few days, but it’s the longest few days they’ve spent. It’s like he’s missing a part of himself without Harry, so why did he even think to go on without him?

Harry holds his hand throughout it, both of them looking out the highway. Harry assures him that he doesn’t need to be strong all the time anymore, that he can be weak and vulnerable with him and Harry will never exploit it.

He focuses his eyes on the road, and let Harry’s words warm his heart. Louis raises their joined hands and presses a kiss on Harry’s. “I don’t know why I deserve you,” Louis says. “And I know you don’t want me to say it, but this will be the last time. I’m sorry I took off without bothering to talk to you. Thank you for knocking some sense into me. I promise that I’ll do my best to just run to you,” Harry’s hand tightens. “And, you know it goes both ways, right?”

Harry chuckles, clearly remembering their first date. The statement doesn’t just apply to handholding. It holds true when they tell each other their secrets and become completely defenseless. Complete acceptance of and from each other. Louis just has to remember that when it comes to everything: Well, they kind of share that – really.

“It looks like love has finally found me,” Louis starts, knowing that a little lyric banter would lift the mood.

Harry smiles as he scratches Haley’s head on his lap. “I’ve been waiting for a boy like you to come into my life.”

“This must be just like livin' in paradise,” he counters, keeping the songs from the soundtrack of Rock of Ages.

“I’m hopelessly devoted to you,” Harry sings.

“That’s from Grease,” Louis says indignantly. “Also, I would never push your love aside.”

“I thought we were going for musicals. Also, I don’t particularly care about paradise. You’re my home.”

Guess Harry wins this round. Louis will surely give him a prize when they get to his house. Win-win.

 

…oOo…

 

They’re hanging out in the green room as per usual before the show begins. It suddenly strikes Louis that this would be Harry’s last chance to impress the audience before the finale. He’s worried because instead of helping Harry with his song, he was off stewing in his silly thoughts. In his defense, they didn’t seem silly at that time.

Liam is just the best friend he could ask for. Sweet, sweet Liam helped Harry for the week. Since Harry wants to surprise him with the song, he asked Liam to do the rehearsals with him. They clocked in an early studio time yesterday so Harry could ride the afternoon train to Doncaster but still get rehearsal time.

For his song, Harry needed a pianist, a drummer, and a bassist. Harry reveals that Liam helped him find them easily, and they’ve been practicing in Niall’s pub. Louis is a tad bit worried, because there’s only about ten minutes before he needs to be in the coaches’ panel and the instrumentalists still haven’t arrived. It’s only Liam, Zayn, and Niall with them in the room; the stylists have already left.

Before he knows it, he’s saying good luck to Harry one last time and giving him a kiss, then he’s being ushered into the studio. All the other coaches are already in their respective places. He gives them all hugs as he makes his way to his respective seat.

Only Ed and Cheryl seem to be on edge, the others are still smiling around. Either they’re very good at hiding their emotions, or they don’t actually care at all.

He puts his phone on silent mode and slips it back in his pocket as the lights grow dimmer and Jack and Olly take the stage.

“Good evening everybody and welcome to,” Olly starts.

“Next Big Star,” the hosts say into the camera trailing them on stage.

“This is kind of a big night, right Olly?” Jack asks.

“It is. It is the last live show before the finale and the contestants will be impressing us with their own songs,” Olly quips.

“The first contestant who would perform today is currently holding second place. Troye Sivan,” Jack says. “But before he graces us with his new song, let’s watch this.”

The audience is shown a video montage of Troye and Ed working in the studio, and just messing about. It looks like they’ve really hit it off and it shows through how much Troye’s confidence is developed throughout the series.

Louis mind wanders to the footage of him and Harry that will be shown in a while. When they were mindful of the camera, their interactions were strictly professional, sure they still shared some jokes, but it was somehow stilted. The camera never caught how they really were around each other. The professionalism may not be what the audience would want. He’s not sure since there were still mixed reactions online. And maybe that’s okay, at least he still gets to keep part of his relationship with Harry to himself.

Troye walks out on stage and the lights around him dim, a single ray focused solely on him. He positions himself behind the mic stand and gives the audience a cheery smile. There are no opening instrumental sounds when he starts to sing, “What if? What if we run away?” The background music comes alive and it’s a whole pre-recorded production. It’s a really great song, and the words are good as well, “What if we said goodbye to safe and sound?”

Louis bops his head along the calming beat. The song isn’t too flashy with the beat, it’s unimposing but it’s really something the audience would want to listen to. It would sound better with backing vocals, but Troye does a good job anyway.

The next to perform is Calum. The footage of him and Robbie is shown. Their interactions are more of mentor-mentee, really. He sees that Calum has a lot of respect for Robbie and that the latter does his best to relate to Calum.

The only accompaniment Calum uses for his song is his guitar. It’s a pretty angst-filled song entitled Amnesia, and Louis would definitely belt it out whenever he’s in one of his emotional moods.

Third comes Jade. Louis is surprised to learn that Cheryl actually teaches her the choreography when she performs. It still baffles Louis why on the first ever live performance Jade seemed to be so constricted not to move. Cheryl is a great dancer, and so is Jade, and they should really have capitalized on that from the get go.

Her song is upbeat and gets the audience dancing along, and by the third chorus some are singing along. “Take a sip of my secret potion, one taste and you’ll be mine,” she sings. It’s really quite enchanting, that Louis forgets Harry is next.

Even when they were trying to be professional, you can just see the love radiating off them. Or is it just Louis who could see? He doesn’t know whether to be proud or embarrassed. It’s as if the world is discovering he has a huge fat crush on Harry. Which he does, and the world already knows, but having photographic and videographic evidence is difference. He’ll just stick to being proud, it’s not a secret that they’re together anymore anyway.

It takes a while to set up the stage since a whole band of equipment is hauled in. After it’s done, a drum set is on the back part of the stage, a keyboard on the left, and amplifiers connected to guitars. Four young lads enter the stage and Louis gasps because it’s not the first time he’s seen the instrumentalists.

It’s Niall taking a seat behind the drums, a huge grin plastered on his face. Liam, and Louis should have expected this, goes behind the keyboard. He’s been playing the keys since they were kids, he should’ve seen this coming when no other people were in the dressing room before he left. Zayn walks out with a base guitar, Louis didn’t even know he played.

Harry takes his place: front and center. “This song is called Don’t Let Me Go, and I’ve written it for someone special to me,” he says and is greeted by a chorus of, “Aww,” from the audiences.

A spotlight shines over each of them, but Harry’s is the brightest. It may also just be his inner light that makes him stand out, either way he’s too focused on Harry to even care. Is it presumptuous of Louis to think that the song is for him? It is a surprise for him right?

Liam places careful fingers on top of the keys and slowly presses the chords to introduce the song. “Now you are standing there right in front of me,” Harry croons, and goodness Louis just melts.

He listens with rapt attention, letting the chords be engraved in his brain and the lyrics cover him up.

“All of a sudden these lights are blinding me, I never noticed how bright they would be.” So the whole thing did affect Harry too, but he used the pain to create this masterpiece.

“I’ll keep my arms wide open,” Harry launches into the chorus. “Don’t let me, don’t let me go, ‘cause I’m tired of feeling alone.”

He’s calling out to Louis not to leave him, to be with him throughout everything. And if Louis could, he would fling himself to the stage, hold Harry and tell him that he will never let go again. That he loves him, and that he understands now.

Both of them are a little teary when the song ends. Louis inconspicuously wipes his eyes, but Harry is obviously blinking back his.

The hosts cut to a commercial break, and it’ll only be for five minutes so Louis hurries with his next move. He drops himself off the panel and rushes backstage. Harry hasn’t even reached the dressing room yet, and Louis doesn’t even care who sees.

He sees Harry’s curls bouncing, his body flanked between Niall and Liam. “Harry,” Louis calls out.

Harry turns around and opens his arms wide, as if he knew what Louis was about to do.

Louis launches into a run and literally jumps into Harry’s arms. He circles his arms around Harry’s neck and wraps his legs around his waist. Harry catches him and steadies him with his big hands fastened below his thighs. “I love you,” Louis declares. He presses one hard kiss on Harry’s lips, enough that it’s bruising in the way Harry likes; rough, but also subtle enough to leave him wanting more. He pulls back conjuring lyrics from his head. “Nobody saves me, baby, the way you do,” he says.

“Lou, that’s unfair. Those are your own lyrics,” he reprimands, but he’s smiling.

Louis hops off, aware that everyone is probably staring at them. He doesn’t care, he’s only got eyes for Harry. “Well, my words sum up how I feel.”

“In that case,” Harry purses his lips, “I just want it to be you and I forever,” he grins.

“That’s not a song,” Louis says.

“It is. It’s just not commercially available yet.”

So Harry has more songs Louis hasn’t heard? Louis just smiles back, knowing that he has all the time in the world to listen to Harry’s songs. “Nobody loves you, baby, the way I do,” Louis’ really milking Fireproof.

“I love you too,” Harry says with one last kiss to Louis.

Louis runs back to the panel with only seconds to spare.

It’s pretty uneventful after Harry. For Louis, that is. Perrie sings a powerful song called “Secret Love Song” which Louis could have related to before. But the lyrics don’t ring true to him now. No one will ever convince him to hide away his love for Harry. Nicole dances to her own song, and she even has several back-ups. The crowd loved her performance.

The show ends and the rankings are announced before the online site for checking is closed until the finale. Harry manages to climb up to the third spot.

It’s looking good though, because even if there is still hate on social media, the way Harry performed and wrote that song shows how much talent he has. And Louis just hopes that everyone will see that.

Louis is pretty excited for the finale because the coaches would be performing duets with their bets. That’s just another excuse to spend more time with Harry. Not that he even needs an excuse.

  
  



	9. And Everything's Right Again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title is from [No Ordinary Love](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HpadinZUEwE)

 

It’s undeniable how much Louis loves Harry, with all his heart and all he is. As he stares through the glass roof of the attic with Harry curled up beside him, hugging him tight, that’s all he thinks about.

They’re both plastered after partying the night away in Niall’s pub. Louis bought the lads whatever they wanted for helping out Harry when he couldn’t. Now, the stars twinkle and dance for them, as if to say that everything is going to be okay.

Harry’s head rests on Louis’ chest, his curls tickling his chin. “Lou,” Harry whispers, his hand flattening on Louis.

Louis hums in response, placing a hand over Harry’s.

“Don’t ever run away again, okay?” Harry looks up to him. “Or if you would, take me with you,” he continues.

“Never again, love.” A pang of guilt twists violently in his chest, but he dismisses it, knowing that Harry does not mean to make him feel that way. “I’m sorry for being stupid, and thinking you’d be better off without me,” he still says. “The truth is, we’re much better together.”

Harry pushes off the mattress and slots his body on top of Louis. “We both know you need me in your life,” he smiles down at Louis. “I mean, you just can’t live, if living is without me.”

Louis smirks, circling his hands around Harry’s torso. “Yes, Mariah.”

Harry drops a kiss on his forehead and Louis raises his chin in response to catch Harry’s lips. “I’ll always love you,” Louis says. “Thank you,” is all he adds, but he’s sure Harry understands just what for. For bringing him out of his shell, for sticking with him.

Harry nuzzles him, his soft, warm breath against Louis’ neck sends shivers down his spine. He presses Harry closer to him, his hands climbing up from the dip on Harry’s back to his broad shoulder blades. He kisses Harry, hot and deep. Their lips are perfectly sliding against each other. It’s hard and gentle at the same time. Louis hopes he could convey all his love through the way he’s holding Harry, because he could feel Harry’s love through the heat of his body warming him up.

They kiss for what seems like forever, but it’s still not enough. Louis manages to flip them over and slowly peels off Harry’s clothes. He kisses every inch of skin, slowly and agonizingly. Harry whimpers beneath him, whispering, “Please.”

He kisses him feverishly and laces his fingers through his hair, “I love you,” Louis says.

They make tender, sweet love that night, in the dark with only the stars providing light. Every graze of skin on skin, and every sound Harry makes is slowly embedded in Louis’ mind. They touch each other slowly, and sensuously, like they have all the time in the world. But they hold each other tight, like the time the two of them share is limited. And when they both come, with Louis inside Harry, it is with silent screams and tears in their eyes. Louis is overwhelmed by how much he feels for Harry and how he almost threw it all away.

He shoves away all the guilt, learning that it shouldn’t be his driving force to tell Harry how he feels. He loves Harry, completely so, and it comes with trust that goes both ways. They’re in love, and they hold each other’s hearts in their hands. Harry trusts him not to break his, just like he trusts him to be careful with his own.

 

…oOo…

 

Louis spends the morning with his journal, his pen flying over the pages. He has this great idea for a song because of what Harry said during their trip back to London. He doesn’t need to search deep within him to realize that he does feel the same. Harry is his home, and they don’t even officially live together yet, but that topic is for another time. Louis should really remedy that though.

Right now he’s writing a song and the words come to him faster than he could even write. The page ends up with half-written words, only he could make sense of.

He wants to sing it for the duets on Sunday. Technically, they’re all supposed to sing a song of the coaches, so technically, it’s okay to sing an original.

By the time Harry gets home in the afternoon, Louis’ finished writing the song, including the melody. Color him inspired.

“I’ve closed it!” Harry hugs Louis as soon as he enters through the door.

Harry’s surely talking about the deal he’s been busy working on, “The housing estate?” Louis asks.

“Yes, they loved all my designs and said that they were aesthetically pleasing for the type of market they’re going for,” Harry takes Louis’ cheeks in his big hands. “I’m building homes!”

Louis just grins, too endeared to speak. Harry kisses him, still buzzing with energy. “I’m very proud of you,” Louis finally finds his voice.

“Let’s celebrate tonight, okay?” Harry pleads. “Go out after you let me hear the song we’ll sing on Sunday.”

Louis freezes. He hasn’t exactly told Harry that it’s an original song, he just said he’s found something that would fit them. He’s suddenly nervous, the song is mainly about Harry and he’s gonna be the first one to hear it too. “Let’s go to the studio,” he says, tugging on Harry’s arm.

Harry leaves his briefcase on the counter and they make their way to the studio in the basement. “I’ve heard all your songs, babe. I actually have all your albums,” Harry says. “All you need to say is the title,” he looks at Louis confused.

“It’s an original, spent the whole day writing it.”

Harry’s eyes bug out at the statement, his mouth opening in shock. “You finished writing a song in just a day?” he asks.

“What can I say? You inspire me.”

Harry waggles his eyebrows and claps his hands together, “Let’s hear it then.”

“Please remember that I don’t do too well with instruments, I only dabble in them a bit. There might be some mess ups in the instrumentals I’ve recorded, but I’ll get Liam and Julian to help me fix it,” he stops talking upon seeing the offended look on Harry’s face.

“I can play the guitar you know,” Harry informs him.

“Yes, I know. I just know you’re a sure thing too.” It’s Louis’ turn to wiggle his brows. “With helping me, I mean,” he amends.

Harry rolls his eyes, “Go on.”

Louis opens the door to the enclosure where he records and sits on the stool as he plays the recording of the melody. “Make a little conversation, so long I’ve been waiting to let go of myself and feel alive,” he starts after the first set of guitar chords.

He closes his eyes and sings. He’s memorized all the lyrics, his heart pouring out into the song. He doesn’t dare look at Harry, not yet. “But you say, you feel the same. Could we ever be enough? Baby, we could be enough?”

Louis focuses on the song, what it means to him, and lets his emotions fill his voice, “I’ll make this feel like home.” He didn’t realize that he’s crying throughout the whole song. When he sings the final verse, Louis finally looks up and sees Harry.

Harry’s just as stunned. His eyes are filled to the brim with tears, still smiling at Louis.

“It’s for you, just so you know,” Louis says.

Harry goes inside the enclosure, “I love you.”

 

…oOo…

 

The air conditioning is too cold for Louis’ taste. He’s seated in the same place he was in about ten weeks ago when his management brought up the idea of him coaching for a reality show.

Right now, the eyes boring into him aren’t cold. They’re eager and just rimmed around the edges by greed. Louis recognizes the look, they want something from him, and he has a good sense of what it is before they even open their mouth. Michael and David are smiling at him, it’s a good thing he has Liam by his side.

“So, Louis,” David says. He’s shuffling papers in front of him, his lips still pulled up at the corners. It’s getting creepy. “I’ve drawn up a contract for us,” he gestures between Louis and him, “to renew our management relationship.”

Louis blows air from his mouth, unable to stifle the laugh brewing in his throat. “What?” he spits out.

The shocked look on David’s and Michael’s faces is priceless. “Why?” Michael has the nerve to ask.

“My contract with you ends on the day of the finale,” Louis says as calmly as he can. He’s still a bit giggly. It’s really incredible that they firmly believe their relationship has been resembling something symbiotic. “What makes you think I’d actually renew my contract with you?”

“But, we’ve included clauses favorable to you in this new contract,” David shoves the pile of papers in front of Louis.

It’s Liam’s turn to scoff, but no words come out of his mouth. They share a moment of silent mirth before Louis speaks. “I’m sure you did,” he says. Louis is also sure they’ve found loopholes to make Louis do the things they’d want him to. “But, as you may have guessed, I’m not completely happy with the kind of relationship we’ve had. I think that going our separate ways would be best for me and the company. So I’ll abide by my contract until the finale, and then we could all move on.”

Louis starts to stand up and make his way out the door. He isn’t surprised when Liam doesn’t follow him, since he still works for the company. He reaches for the door handle and hears Liam say, “Here’s my week’s notice.”

Louis whips his head around so fast and sees Liam handing a sheet of paper to Michael whose mouth is agape.

“Thank you for the opportunity you’ve given me,” Liam says with a smile.

“You’re resigning?” Michael asks.

Liam nods, “Yes, sir. I think I’ve learned everything that I can here in this company and it’s just time to move on.” He sends Louis a shy smile.

Louis beams back at him and stands by, waiting for Liam.

“You can’t just leave,” David says, banging a fist on the table.

“I’m not, sir,” Liam’s tone is still collected, and Louis is quite envious of the composed demeanor Liam has. If it was him, he might just answer David sarcastically. “That is why I’m giving you a notice. A week’s notice is what the company requires for persons in my position who are resigning. I’m sure you’ll be able to find a suitable replacement with the reputation the company has. Again, thank you for the opportunity. I’ll report for work until the end of the week.”

Liam stands up and shakes both of their hands. “Have a lovely day,” he says.

He and Louis head out of the room in silence. Louis feels a thousand pounds lighter. Liam might be feeling the same because once they’re in the elevator, he gives him the tightest, cuddliest hug. “Finally,” Liam whispers.

“I know,” Louis says.

They’re almost out, just a few more days and they’ll be free of the worst management ever. Louis would focus on his label while Liam hones more of his skills with Corden Group.

…oOo…

Niall’s pub is crawling with people for a Tuesday night. It doesn’t matter, Louis and Liam need to celebrate their freedom. Some might say that it’s a bit premature, but in less than a week the contract will expire and they will be free. And there are a lot of other things to celebrate aside from the contract expiring.

As the five of them, including Harry, Zayn, and Niall, make it through their third round of pints for the night, the merriment in the air just rises and the buzz tickles Louis on the insides. Everything is perfect; the validity of the contract is nearly over, Harry just smashed the latest live show and he closed the project he wanted, and Louis finally sorted through the business aspect of the label with James.

It looks like Louis is closer to getting everything he wants in life, so he lets the effects of the beer wash over him and loosen up all his inhibitions. He sees Harry through soft lidded eyes, smiley and giggly beside him.

“I’m really happy for you,” Zayn says and Louis is not really sure who he’s talking to because he has the tendency to keep his focus on Liam.

“Thank you,” it’s Harry who speaks. Louis realizes that he’s been looking at him all this while and isn’t even paying attention to the conversation going on. Too busy mesmerized by Harry’s plush red lips and the way his curls frame his pearly skin. “I’m really excited to work on it,” he says again.

Louis isn’t really sure what Harry is talking about, so he takes the cold beer from the table and takes a big swig. He leans in over to Harry and hooks his chin on his shoulder pressing a sloppy kiss on his neck.

Harry squeezes Louis thigh in answer, as if to calm him down.

“But will you still have time to do it if you win?” Liam asks.

“Yeah,” Niall chimes in. “Wouldn’t you be too busy with show business and stuff do it?”

Louis hears them but doesn’t really process anything, his mind too fuzzy to deal. He just wants Harry now, wants to be alone with him.  _ Oh no _ . He’s drunk, and a little horny. Maybe a lot. He slips a hand between Harry’s legs, the table concealing his movement from the other lads.

Harry’s breath hitched when Louis moves further up his crotch. “Well,” he says, voice a little higher than usual.

Louis smiles to himself. He might not be able to process what they’re talking about, but Harry’s body language had already become his mother tongue. He knows that he would soon get his way.

Harry clears his throat, “I’m already done with the designs, so it’s just a matter of ordering the materials, and that task could be easily delegated. I would have to visit the site every once in a while to check on the workers, but that’s about it.”

Louis is drawing circles on the cloth covering Harry’s length. He can feel Harry starting to twitch, but does nothing to stop Louis instead says, “What do you think, Lou?”

“Hmm,” he says, dazed. He looks up to Harry and smiles innocently at him, replacing his fingers with the heel of his palm for added pressure. He feels Harry squirm beneath his touch. “You can do anything, babe,” he kisses Harry’s cheek and moves near his ear to whisper, “anything.” And it isn’t just to answer the question.

Harry squeezed his thigh again, but Louis kept grazing his dick and even pushes down the head.

Liam whizzes, “Lou, are you drunk?” he asks.

Louis shifts his focus on Liam for a bit. “Drunk in love,” he sings. Beside him, Harry is trying not to buck his hips up.

“Take him home,” Liam says. Harry should really take him home, and let Louis do things to him, on him, with him. Anything that involves Harry really.

“Why? The night is young,” Harry says but the grit in his voice betrays him, and the hard line of his cock against his thigh tells Louis that he too wants to go home.

“I know how he gets when he’s drunk. Trust me, I do not want to witness the succeeding things he’d do,” Liam says in a knowing tone.

“Then why don’t you be the one to fucking leave, Leeyum?” Louis says, throwing daggers with his looks.

Liam stays calm, “Because, Lewis, I’m not the one ready to hump my boyfriend in public.”

Niall looks over to where Louis is still subtly teasing Harry. He sees where Louis’ hand is and says, “There would be no humping in my pub, it’s hard to clean up as it is.” He stands up from his seat and shoves ‘em to stand up.

Harry tries to untuck his fitted shirt to get some cover but Liam is already shielding his eyes, and Zayn’s mouth is hanging agape. Everyone is now in full view of Harry’s erection and Louis is a bit proud. Okay, a lot proud.

“Goodbye,” Niall says, pushing them towards the direction of the door.

“Bye,” Harry says, a bit bashfully.

Louis tugs on Harry’s arm and walks in front of him, trying his best to cover the bit he does not want strangers to see.

They push their way through the crowd and eventually stumble out to the private parking lot where the Range Rover is. Being friends with the owner of the pub certainly had its perks. “That was rude,” Louis says.

They were alone in the dimly lit lot, with only three cars. One is Niall’s SUV and the other Liam’s. Harry unclasps Louis’ grip on him and wraps his arms around Louis’ torso, pulling him and grinding his hips to Louis’ arse. “That was naughty,” Harry whispers, biting his ear and bracketing him to the side of the vehicle.

Louis moans. He doesn’t know if he has the will to make it home before doing something. He circles his hips, pushing further into Harry. “Do you want me to be nice?” he asks, his cheeks pressing on the cool glass window.

Harry’s hand finds its way to Louis’ own growing semi and squeezes. “I think we’re alone now,” Harry says, and Louis doesn’t know if it’s in reference to the song or if Harry’s just reading his mind.

Louis grinds forward to get more friction on his cock, Harry whimpers at his loss. Louis snakes his hand back to cup Harry’s bum. Squeezing and kneading the flesh over the fabric of the jeans.

Louis ruts against Harry’s palm while Harry thrusts against his arse. The pressure is good and they move in rhythm. He feels his orgasm build in the pit of his stomach, turned on by Harry’s hot breaths on his neck.

He pushes his bum further back, feeling Harry between his cheeks. He turns his head as far as he could and kisses Harry, not minding the odd angle and how his neck hurting a tiny bit is adding to the pleasure keeping his cock hard.

He wants to stop but he can’t. He’s too drunk to do so, but if he doesn’t he’s gonna come embarrassingly fast on his jeans.

He let’s go of Harry’s bum to the other boy’s dismay. Louis turns around and replaces his hand on Harry’s arm to placate him. Harry rests his forearm on either side of Louis’ head. They kiss hard. Their lips sliding sweetly and teeth clashing. “I should get you drunk more often,” Harry says.

Louis traces the waistband of Harry’s pants and dips a finger in. His nails graze the top of Harry’s crack and he arches his back so his crotch moves forward. “I’m not that drunk,” Louis says, his hands going lower down Harry’s naked bum. He suddenly realizes he’s not wearing any pants. “Who’s naughty now?” he says.

Harry just chuckles. He presses a kiss on Louis’ jaw, just under his ear. He mouths a circle on the same spot and sucks hard. Louis finds his hole and presses the pad of his finger. Harry’s hip jerks and he slides of Louis with a pop. Louis feels that the love bite is going to be a big one. Harry pushes his arse back to Louis’ finger.

“Do you have supplies?” Louis asks.

Harry’s eyes grow rounder. “Fuck,” he says.

Louis presses one last kiss to his lips and rounds the car to the passenger side. “Come on, Haz. Your house is nearer.”

It’s the fastest Louis’ seen Harry drive. Louis keeps him motivated throughout the journey by detailing to him what he is about to do. He observed Harry’s crotch for any changes and is happy to note that his words seem to be inspiring enough.

They don’t even make it to Harry’s door before their mouths are on each other again. Harry’s sinful lips ghosting all over his exposed skin as they wade through the way to make it to the bedroom.

Harry goes immediately to the bedside table to retrieve lube. No need for condoms because they got tested and everything turned out to be okay, and they already celebrated that. He throws the small tube to Louis and rids himself of his jeans.

“Well aren’t we so eager?” Louis remarks, standing in the doorway and marveling at the speed by which Harry moves.

Harry removes his shirt and throws it to the floor. He skips to Louis and kisses him with his tongue diving into Louis mouth, effectively shutting him up. Louis grips his bum and notices that Harry’s hard cock is already leaking, pre-cum soaking a spot on his shirt.

He walks him over to the bed with their lips still attached. He carefully pushes him down on the bed until he’s lying still. Louis detaches himself and surveys the scene in front of him.

Harry’s cheeks are flushed and his lips the color of cherries. His curls are fanned out and his chest is heaving. Louis’ gaze drifts a little lower and notices that Harry’s cock is red at the tip, curving up his abdomen. Louis drops a kiss on the slit and licks his lips, tasting Harry. Harry moans at the contact. “Lou,” he mewls.

“Turn around, love,” Louis instruct.

Harry does better and gets on his hands and knees. Louis groans at the site. He removes his own shirt, feeling hot all over. He nudges Harry’s knees further apart and settles between them. He licks a kiss on the top of Harry’s spine and gently massages his shoulders.

Louis slowly makes his way down, leaving a trail of hot pecks on each of the knobs on his back. He kneels and spreads Harry’s cheeks with his hands. He kneads the soft flesh and Harry groans. “Come on,” he pleads.

He licks a stripe over the crack, his nails softly digging in after. Harry’s very responsive, making noises that set Louis on edge. Louis might come just from the sounds coming out from Harry, but he wills himself not to. He presses his tongue flat on Harry’s hole and the boy arches his back, cursing.

It’s the first time they’ve done this, and Louis is excited. He just wants to show Harry how much he loves him and is willing to do anything for him. With this thought, he becomes more adventurous so his tongue insisted on going further in.

Louis traces the rim with his tongue and pushes inside the ring of muscle. Harry is down to his elbows, his head resting on his arms. “God, Lou,” he whimpers.

Louis blows over the hole and kisses it. He licks inside, burying his nose in the crack and just giving what he can to Harry. Harry is completely destroyed beneath him, spewing out a series of incoherent words. His cock is dangling beneath him, continuously leaking spunk.

Louis fucks him with his tongue without regard to the bitter taste in his mouth. He digs his fingers in Harry’s peach of a bum, and he knows it’s gonna leave marks. “Your fucking mouth, Lou,” Harry says.

He doesn’t relent, instead he buries himself deep inside Harry. Until he feels Harry’s breath become irregular and start fucking himself on Louis’ tongue. Louis tries his best to stay steady and lets Harry have everything he wants from Louis.  Then Harry is spilling all over the duvet, screaming mercy and other profanities.

Harry collapses on to the bed as Louis makes his way up kissing each vertebra on the way. Louis gather’s Harry’s hair and yanks on it. “Amazing,” he says, sucking a bruise on Harry’s nape and the man beneath him just takes it wordlessly.

Louis rests on top of Harry and rests his head on his back. “You’re still clothed,” Harry says, moving his arm to Louis’ bum. “That’s a shame,” he says. “I want to ride you.”

Louis has renewed energy. He scampers off to the foot of the bed to get the lube he dropped, too preoccupied by pleasuring Harry. He wastes no time in opening Harry up, moving with confidence and knowing just how much to push and when to add a finger.

By the time he’s prepped and ready, Harry’s hard again and Louis’s pants feel like prison. He feels a cool patch of precum in his boxers, so he removes his jeans along with the pants.

Harry shifts the position and let’s Louis rest on the bed, with him straddling his hips. He grabs a hair tie from the bedside table and twists his hair into a bun. “My anaconda don’t want none unless you’ve got buns, hun,” Louis arches his brow.

Harry smiles, fanning his hand over Louis’ chest. “I don’t know why I love you,” he shakes his head, a curl falling over his face.

“Because you love big butts and you cannot lie,” Louis says.

Harry shakes with laughter over him. “I get sprung,” he says, but before Louis is overcome with another fit of giggles, Harry licks into his open mouth and they kiss.

The kiss gradually turned sensual and Harry moves his hand to grab Louis dick. He raises his hips a bit and guides Louis inside of him. Harry groans into Louis’ mouth when the head pushes past his hole. Louis moans, overwhelmed by the sudden attention on his cock after almost an hour without some sort of friction.

Harry sinks down, taking all of Louis inside him. He circles his hips tentatively so Louis is still buried in the heat and tightness of Harry. Engulfing him and taking over.

Harry is beautiful on top of him, riding him like a knight in shining armor. Harry rises and lets his thighs do all the work while Louis lies there on the bed admiring his strength. He’s the prince Louis’ has always wanted.

Louis is overwhelmed by his love for Harry. The man who made himself face his own self, and stuck by even though there’s a chance Louis might break his heart. The man who unfastened all of Louis’ masks. The man to whom Louis could always be himself. The man who would laugh with him even at the height of passion and still make him come in a span of two minutes.

He cries out, “Harry,” as he spills inside him. Harry keeps going, riding out his own orgasm, his load shooting all over Louis’ belly. Louis holds him as Harry falls over him, smearing the spunk between their bodies.

 

…oOo…

 

“Honestly, do you even want to win?” Louis asks Harry.

They’re in his studio, supposedly making a demo of the duet they’d be singing on Sunday. Harry had other ideas, using every free moment to kiss and distract Louis with his big, wonderful, talented hands. Playing Louis like he would his guitar.

“With you, it feels like I’ve already won, Lou,” Harry says, making Louis blush.

He kisses Harry to pacify him. “What about the recording contract?” Louis says.

“I know I said it’d be awesome to have one. But come to think of it, I’d rather keep playing in the pub and designing homes and buildings. Besides, if I ever decide on pursuing a career as a singer, you’d sign me right?” Harry smiles and wiggles his eyebrows.

“You sound so sure that I’d sign you,” Louis observes.

“Or, I could also just write songs for you to sing. And I’ve been thinking about it. If you go on tour again, and I have my own tour, we’d never see each other,” Harry says.

Louis frowns. “I don’t want you to give up your dream because of logistics, we could make it work,” he says. He doesn’t want Harry to think that both of them being celebrities would take a toll on their relationship that they can’t handle.

“You are my dream, Lou,” he says. “The dream had always been to build homes for people, and eventually for myself.” Harry kisses Louis. “Then I found you, and you became my home.”

Louis flings himself to Harry and kisses him spiritedly. He gives in to Harry’s tactics. They’ve got two more days of practice anyway.

 


	10. Don’t Really Need to Wonder at All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from [Still Into You](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OblL026SvD4)

It’s the night of the finale and Louis is as calm as he can be given that it’s going to be his first time hitting the stage and performing after his hiatus. Harry’s done everything in his power to make him relax, but Louis doesn’t know how he can be cool about this when it will definitely affect his future.

They’re in the green room for the show, there will be no coaches’ panel tonight. They watch the performances through a small flat screen TV mounted on the wall. Harry has his arms wrapped around him on the sofa while Liam, Niall, and Zayn make themselves comfortable on the cushioned floor. It’s quite a small room, just enough space for the five of them to be seated and a vanity table to be set up for hair and makeup.

Louis doesn’t know why he’s nervous, their performance tonight will not have a huge effect on the votes they’ve received. Voting will be immediately closed after the last performance, and as luck would have it, they’re the last act. The winners have essentially  already been chosen even before the show tonight has begun. But maybe it’s because he knows that their performance will still affect how everything will go on. The winner will be all set with a record deal, but it doesn’t mean that other record labels wouldn’t be open to taking on the runner-ups. As history would show, the runner-ups usually get a better deal when it comes to these things because they have room to negotiate, unlike the winners whose contract is pretty much iron-clad.

Perrie and Adele take the stage first and wow the house with their powerful rendition of Someone Like You. The high notes were flawless and emotions seeped through their voices. They’re met with a standing ovation from the crowd as they take a bow.

Olly announces a short break and the screen shows the graphics for Next Big Star before the advertisements start.

Harry leans over to whisper, “Just have fun.”

Louis presses himself closer to Harry. “I should be the one trying to calm you down, why the fuck are you so calm anyway?”

“The performance doesn’t really matter, does it?” Harry starts, a smirk appearing on his lips. “I mean, it’s pretty much decided anyway, we’re the last to perform. Even if we do very well – which we will – the extra minute for the voters couldn’t turn over the tide. So let’s just have fun, it’s the first time we’ll get to perform for a huge audience, let’s make the best of it.”

“How are you always right?” Louis asks.

Harry just shrugs and kisses Louis on the forehead.

The show is back on again. Troye and Ed grace the stage and they are met with a loud cheer. They are social media favorites and were announced as having the top spot last week. If their fans maintained their voting speed, surely they’d win the competition. The song they picked is a bit calmer and easy on the ears. It’s Ed’s single Photograph and it showcases their abilities really well. They are able to bring fine vocal tuning to the song. Although it lacks the high notes of Someone Like You, it’s obvious that they didn’t need that to impress the crowd.

Nicole and Sam go for a livelier song; Restart. Even Niall is singing with them and bopping along the drum line. It’s quite obvious though that although they have similar singing styles, that’s the extent of their similarities. Nicole tries to be more carefree on stage, while Sam stays put like he’s drawing energy from the ground. It’s a good performance vocal-wise, but maybe they should have done something to utilize the fast rhythm of the song, Louis thinks.

After another set of advertisements, Jade and Cheryl take the stage with their backup dancers. They opted to sing Cheryl’s Crazy, Stupid, Love. The stage lights are focused on them as they recreate the choreography in the music video. Louis is amazed at how they are able to control their breathing and sing through the exaggerated dance moves.

As if he’s reading Louis’s mind, “Great lung capacity,” Harry remarks. Louis just snickers beside him and gives him a playful shove on the shoulders.

The other boys look at them with wonder and Louis is just so happy to realize that he has a lot of inside jokes with Harry. It’s a good realization, knowing that he and Harry could understand each other using only a simple look, or a playful gesture, and know almost exactly what the other thinks. Louis doesn’t ever have to be afraid of being himself with Harry.

Liam breaks him out of his reverie by saying, “Cheryl’s fit, isn’t she?”

Louis wants to laugh at the scornful look Zayn is giving Liam. “Why don’t you date her then?” Zayn says as Niall giggles by their side.

Liam throws his muscly arm over Zayn’s shoulder. “Why would I when I already have you?”

Louis thinks it’s a nice save. Apparently not for Zayn because he still says, “You mean to say if you weren’t dating me, you’d date Cheryl?”

“I’d spent my whole life trying to get you to notice me,” Liam tries again.

This seems to placate Zayn enough to give him a kiss. “Good answer,” he says.

“I’m in crazy, stupid love,” Liam sings in time with Cheryl and Jade as he points to Zayn.

Niall cackles and throws a pillow at them. “You’re vomit-inducing,” he says.

“Why don’t you just find someone to date, Nialler?” Harry asks.

“It’s not like I haven’t been trying,” he says. “Just haven’t found her yet.”

“I’m sure you will, mate,” Louis says encouragingly.

“I don’t really mind, I know she’ll be worth the wait,” Niall says. Now that Louis’ found love, he kind of wants everyone else to.

“Or he,” Harry says.

“Hmm, I’ve never considered that,” Niall says. “I’ll take it under advisement.”

They all shut up when Calum and Robbie go to the stage. They’re all in agreement that Robbie is the best performer out of all the coaches. The five of them have been idolizing them since they were little kids. Louis’ really lucky to have had the chance to perform with him during The X Factor final. Familiar guitar chords echo through the room and they all sing along to Back For Good.

Louis forgets that they are the only ones left until there’s a knock on the door. The boys wish them good luck with hugs and pats on their back. “You’ll be great,” Liam promises.

Harry takes Louis’ hand and the next thing he knows, they’re being ushered off near the stage. “I love you,” he says to Harry.

It isn’t that he’s performing that’s making Louis anxious. It’s that he’s going to be performing a new song. Louis is so used to performing pop songs that almost everyone in the audience knew the lyrics to and sings along. Tonight he’s going to be met with the silence of the audience, they’re attention focused on the words Louis has written for Harry.

And it’s going to be obvious how the song is about Harry. The last time he penned songs, his fans assumed it was an about an imaginary love, or whoever is rumored to be dating him at the time the song is released. Now, they will know that it’s definitely about his boyfriend, no questions about that.

“I love you, too,” Harry says. It calms Louis down. Sure singing out his feelings would make him feel vulnerable in front of the audience, but as long as Harry’s there, he can be strong.

Harry’s presence by his side cools him down, his buzz just enough to give a really good performance. He wishes that the audience would receive the song well.

They stride on to the stage, and they both take a seat on the stools provided for them. Harry sends Louis a wink as he adjusts the guitar in his hand.

Harry strums the guitar and sings the first verse just like they practiced. The audience grows quiet, and Louis sees that some of them are surprised that the song is an original.

It’s Louis’ turn to sing, “So many nights I thought it over,” he goes. He closes his eyes and let’s the notes fill him.

The hook sounds good in Harry’s falsetto, “Could we ever be enough?” he croons.

“Baby, we could be enough,” Louis answers.

The line isn’t just for the song. It’s everything Harry is to Louis. They’re enough, always enough. No matter what the world throws at them, they’re enough.

Harry joins him back for the chorus. “And it’s alright, calling out for somebody to hold tonight,” they both sing.

“When you’re lost, I’ll find a way. I’ll be your light,” Harry sings, his eyes searching Louis’.

Although Louis sings, “You will never feel like you’re alone. I’ll make this feel like home,” he’s actually making Harry a promise.

He forgets that there’s an audience watching them, but Louis still sings with all his heart. He means every word. He and Harry have used other people’s words to tell each other how they feel, and now they’ve used their own. And it feels much better to be able to tell Harry how he feels exactly, and have his feelings immortalized through song.

The song ends and the stage lights grow brighter. The blood rushing in Louis’ ear drowns out the crowd’s cheering. He looks at Harry who’s looking back at him with a smile on his face. It takes all of Louis not to throw himself and kiss Harry. Louis settles for taking his hand as they both stand up and are joined by Olly and Jack on stage.

“That’s a beautiful song,” Jack comments. “I’ve never heard it before though, was it in a Side B in one of your records, Louis?”

“No, actually. I just wrote it and thought it’d be nice to sing it for the finale,” Louis answers.

Olly sidles up to him and Louis has been to a lot of Xtra Factor interviews to know what his question will be before he asks, “So, is it for anyone special?”

“Very special,” Louis says, looking up at Harry.

Jack announces that the voting is closed and that there will be a short break before they announce the winners.

Everything flashes by in a blur. They don’t leave the stage, instead the other teams are escorted on and they are placed in position.

He holds Harry’s hand through it all. Louis gets clammy, but he knows Harry doesn’t mind with the way his grip tightens.

The results don’t matter, but of course he still wants to win, wants it for Harry, and for Wilmington.

The stage is alive with energy, some are excited and some are anxious. More anxiety comes from the contestants themselves, the celebrity coaches seem more relaxed. It’s different for Louis and Harry. Louis is definitely more nervous than Harry who laps up the crowd’s attention and just graces them with a dimpled smile.

The hosts go back on stage, Olly with an envelope in his hand. Nothing registers to Louis’ senses; it feels like he’s drunk, or high, or both. It’s a bit anticlimactic really, the way the whole thing goes. Only the names of the winners will be announced.

Louis supposes that for the winners it will not be anticlimactic, but would really be exciting.  Olly tears off the envelope, a bit dramatically Louis might say. Both him and Jack look at the paper and announce the winners, “Troye Sivan and Ed Sheeran!” they say.

Harry and Louis let go of each other and start clapping for the winners. They deserve it after all the hard work they’ve put in. They might’ve won the contest, but Louis won Harry’s heart.

 

…oOo…

 

They’re curled up in the attic after celebrating with Troye and Ed. Them not winning does not sting as much as Louis thought it would but he still says, “I’m sorry we didn’t win.”

“I still got you, don’t I?” Harry says, “I’m fine with not being the Next Big Star.” He tucks himself into Louis’s side, “Even though the stars are blind,” he sings in a high throaty voice.

Louis plays with Harry’s luscious hair, “You’ve got stars, they’re in your eyes.”

“I’m not familiar with that song,” Harry says.

“Still working on it,” Louis says. It’s true but the inspiration just struck him right at that second.

“I wanna fall from the stars,” Harry wraps his arms around Louis, embracing him, “straight into your arms.”

“I feel you, love,” Louis says instead of singing. He then curves himself to fit into Harry, and they slot together like puzzles even with their limbs all tangled up.

 

…oOo…

 

Less than a week after Louis asked him, Harry is already fully moved in. Louis’ closet doubled in clothes, his kitchen is now always fully stocked, and his attic now features one of those reclining architect’s table. Except now, it’s not just Louis’ closet, or Louis’ kitchen, or Louis’ attic. It’s both of theirs. It’s LouisAndHarry’s. And Louis couldn’t be any happier.

The deal with Corden Group pushed through and the first thing they did as a label was to sign Louis and release Home, the song they sung in the finale, as a single and donated all the proceeds to Wilmington. The song is still rocking the Billboard chart, it debuted on the top spot and is still there after ten weeks.

Louis is about to release his newest album, under a new label and management. Harry’s estate deal wouldn’t be completed for another six months, but building has started.

Louis still sometimes finds it hard to communicate his feelings, especially internal conflicts he may have. He tries his best to use songs to tell Harry how he feels, but more and more of those songs are his own.

A lot of people were interested in signing Harry for their own label, but he’s turned them down, choosing instead to focus on being an architect.

He would never tell Harry, but Louis’ been snooping around his work table and saw a design for a simple house. It was labeled “Home with Louis.” Louis has a feeling that it’s for them, and he’s aching to ask Harry about it, but he tries to control himself in case it’s supposed to be a surprise. Promise, though, it’s the only thing he doesn’t talk about with Harry these days.

It’s been a hell of a year for Louis and Harry. Living together has not exactly been picture-perfect, they bicker at times but it isn’t unhealthy. They’re still in love, and Louis finds that his love for Harry breaks down all his walls and he loves him more everyday.

They’re back in the place where it all started, Niall’s pub. Harry just got off the stage after performing several covers, and Louis is trying to balance three pints in his hands. Without a tray, this time he’s sure he could do it.

Louis cradles the pints in his hands, holding them tightly so they won’t slip. He turns around to go back to their table where Liam and Zayn are waiting. A tall figure bumps into him and he drops the pints; glass shatters and beer spills.

Louis is ready to go off and call out the person responsible for making the mess, and his shirt wet when a familiar drawl says, “Oops.”

He looks up and sees Harry with his shoulders rising apologetically. Attractively too, but everything Harry does is attractive to Louis that he forgets the simmer of anger. “Hi,” he says.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to Awriterwrites for the prompt, I hope you like what I've done with it :)  
> >> Louis is a famous musician who is on a break (sound familiar?). His management company decides that in order to keep his names in the headlines he will be involved in the scouting and signing of the "Next Big Star"--a reality show that pits famous singer/songwriters against each other. The trick is that the stars have to actually go out and find the obscure talent, promote them, coach them and make them into a star. The public votes on the winner. Sort of like The Voice--but the "coach" is much more hands on and instrumental--and they only work with one future star for the season
> 
> Thank you to Roja as well for going over my work. I really appreciate the effort you've put into this.
> 
> Thank you to Manda :) for cheering me on and reading the parts I'm not sure of and telling me your thoughts.
> 
> Thank you to Joce for being the overall editor and being patient with my run-ons that tend to run away from me, also for your constructive criticism and comments. And the time you've put into this!
> 
> Thanks a lot to [Sarah](http://larryfanficcovers.tumblr.com) for the wonderful [cover art](http://larryfanficcovers.tumblr.com/post/151527928894/title-the-words-i-sing) she made!  
> 
> 
> To you, the reader, thank you in advance for giving this fic a chance! don't forget to comment what you think. Thank you!
> 
> If you liked it (and have the time) please reblog this [post.](http://irretrishtible.tumblr.com/post/151475219486/the-words-i-sing-irishvelvet-one-direction) Thanks again!


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